


Grace Of The Angel

by purgatoan



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Angst, Blow Jobs, Bottom Castiel, Dry Humping, Explicit Language, Gambling, Heavy Angst, Homophobia, M/M, Mean Amara (Supernatural), Mean Naomi (Supernatural), Minor Violence, POV Alternating, POV Castiel, POV Dean Winchester, POV First Person, Period-Typical Homophobia, Physical Abuse, Rimming, Smoking, Suggestive Themes, Suicidal Tendencies, Suicidal Thoughts, Titanic AU, Top Dean Winchester, Unrelated Dean Winchester/Sam Winchester, Verbal Abuse
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-26
Updated: 2017-07-26
Packaged: 2018-11-20 16:37:47
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Major Character Death, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 31
Words: 53,243
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11339286
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/purgatoan/pseuds/purgatoan
Summary: April 11th, 1912. Two young men get on the Titanic in Southampton: Castiel Novak, with a terrifying promise of an arranged wedding after the cruise is over, and Dean Winchester, a wanderer that sees this journey as an adventure.Their paths cross on the ship of dreams by a complete accident as Dean saves Castiel in every sense of the word, convincing the man from the first class that life might still be worth living. Throughout those few days, they fall madly in love, overcoming social boundaries and demons hiding inside them that they thought would make it impossible for them to be together.But there’s something neither of them could predict; turns out that Titanic isn’t indestructible at all and, after hitting an iceberg, it’ll inevitably sink. It’s only a matter of time.Will it be the end of their love story or only the beginning?





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> It's finally here, guys! *screams internally*
> 
> Let's start with the fact that the idea for this thing bloomed in my head after stumbling onto a post made by [extranikiforov](http://extranikiforov.tumblr.com/). So, even though I didn't use ideas from it, it kicked me to even consider writing this thing so, thank you!
> 
> Big thanks goes to [justanothersaltandburn](justanothersaltandburn.tumblr.com/), because if it weren't for his support and constant encouragement, I doubt I'd even take upon myself such a big challenge. Thanks so much, Dee, you're the best! 
> 
> Thanks to [izzyindefini](http://izzyindefini.tumblr.com/) and [brieflymaximumprincess](http://brieflymaximumprincess.tumblr.com/) for helping me with translating a very important phrase for this fic!
> 
> And, enormous thank you to my wonderful Beta, because without her help, this fic wouldn't be as incredible as it is now. [Hit_the_books](https://archiveofourown.org/users/hit_the_books/), you're literally the best for putting up with my errors and fails, I will never be able to thank you enough!
> 
> To all of those that were waiting for this fic and constantly cheering me on, thank you so so much! I really hope this beauty lives up to your expectations!
> 
> Every chapter is written from 1st Person's POV and it alternates every chapter. In the first chapter, we start with Cas' POV, in the next one, we go to Dean's POV, and so on. Oh, I envisioned Cas being around 19 in this one and Dean being a little bit older, 21 perhaps?
> 
> Also, dialogue is heavily inspired on the movie script so full credit for that to the creators of the movie. 
> 
> I will have the warnings listed individually as well, so you'll be informed to the best of my ability. Feel free to ask me about the warnings on Tumblr [HERE](http://purgatoan.tumblr.com/) if you want more specific information and I'll provide it!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tags/Warnings: Cas' POV

                                                     

The day had finally come and, even though my mother and fiance were thrilled, I couldn’t bring myself to share the same attitude.

We were in Southampton, heading toward the docks and the ship that was on people’s tongues since its building started. I was told that it was the most luxurious ship built at the beginning of 20th century. The already famous Titanic was going to head into its virgin cruise, with me and my family on board.

The road was bumpy, I could feel almost every stone passing under the wheels. I found the drive incredibly uncomfortable, on top of the fact that I didn’t want to be there at all, but my mother and fiance were excited about travelling in a car. Myself, I didn’t see the appeal of the vehicle.

I felt like I was in a cage while we were driving toward the docks. My foot was absentmindedly tapping on the car’s floor in a steady rhythm. I kept fiddling with the sleeves of my blazer, trying to distract myself from the fact that I was going to be married to her right after the cruise would end.

Naomi Milton was beautiful, there was no doubt about that, but she didn’t care about me at all. She agreed to marry me only because of my family’s name. The name Novak was carrying faded fame and she thought she would be able to thrive on it. If I were being honest? It’s not something I would have staked my future on.

“Castiel, stop that,” my mother said and I looked up, gaze locking with hers.

“Of course,” I responded, my voice laced with sarcasm, but I didn’t even try to fulfil her request. I didn’t want them to have the satisfaction of me ceasing my tapping. If it was annoying them, then good: the whole affair was a bigger nuisance than I ever would be.

Her piercing stare bored into me long after I turned my attention away from her, the added attention making me feel suffocated..

Fortunately, the car stopped soon after and the door was opened by a driver. He gestured for me to go outside and I complied, squinting my eyes a bit to try to adjust them to the bright sunlight.

Titanic was impressive indeed, just like I had been told. I wasn’t able to see all of it, it was that gargantuan. It didn’t matter, however. Why would it matter? It was simply another cage I was going to be put in and told to act like my mother and future wife wanted.

“I don't see what all the fuss is about. It doesn't look any bigger than the Mauretania,” I remarked coldly, my voice showing no emotion, exactly like the expression on my face.

After so many years of my feelings and emotions being belittled, I couldn’t be bothered to let them know what I was really thinking. They wouldn’t care about it anyway.

“You can be blase about some things, Castiel, but not about Titanic. It's over a hundred feet longer than Mauretania, and far more luxurious. It has squash courts, a Parisian cafe... Even Turkish baths,” said Naomi, awe and amusement ringing clear in her voice.

For all that I knew, she could be talking about anything related to luxury and she would seem as excited as in that exact moment. That’s what she cared about: money. Nothing else mattered. I was her complete opposite.

“Your son is much too hard to impress, Amara,” my wife-to-be added and I turned my attention to her and my mother as she got out of the car. My mother looked ridiculous in her too-tight dress, but I guess she couldn’t accept the fact that it had been years since she was a spring chicken. Or a lady.

She still wanted to look like a lady, even though she wasn’t one. A lady wouldn’t shout at her son and guilt him into marrying someone that he didn’t love.

“So, this is the ship that they say is unsinkable,” my mother stated, fixing her hat with her glove-clad hand. Of course, it would be inappropriate to show even a bit of skin.

“It is unsinkable. God himself couldn't sink this ship.” Naomi let out a fake laugh and I fought not to roll my eyes at that. Naomi was far too inappropriate and crass for her own good.

Instead, I focused on the people that were getting onto the ship, not really registering what Naomi and my mother started to blabber about next.

All those people seemed to be so thrilled to have the opportunity to go to America; that’s what most of them must’ve dreamt about for long. I wished I could have shared their enthusiasm, but there was nothing in my heart apart from sorrow and sadness at what the other side of the Atlantic held for me.

I wished I could be anywhere but going aboard the Titanic. Anywhere but in front of the so-called “the ship of dreams”, knowing that none of my dreams would come true there, that I would be living in nothing but a nightmare.

How ironic.

“Welcome, ladies. Hello Castiel,” I knew who spoke to me even before I turned my head. It was Bartholomew, the man that was hired by Naomi’s father to protect her and keep an eye on her which resulted in him following me as well.

I was never able to do what I wanted, because, even if I didn’t see that man, I was always certain that he was on my tail. Naomi was controlling me, checking what I was doing, who I was speaking to, and she would throw tantrums whenever I spoke to any lady, even if she wasn’t supposed to know that. I think I hated Bartholomew and Naomi equally. They were both insufferable.

All I did was curtly nod my head, acknowledging his presence, then I went back to ignoring all of them, taking in everything around me but them.

However, I couldn’t do that forever.

“We’d better hurry,” Amara announced and I offered my arm to Naomi, trying to muster a somewhat polite smile her way. She took it, clinging to me like a parasite. Then, Bartholomew made his way to the front of our little group, offered his arm to my mother, and began leading us toward the entrance of the ship, the service following suit, carrying some of the bags that contained my mother’s most treasured possessions.

The smell that filled my lungs as we began moving closer to the water was refreshing, almost freeing, the wind messing my already ruffled hair. I was glad I hadn't put on a hat when my mother tried to force me to. I could see and observe much more without it; I could feel more, no matter how stupid it might sound.

It felt empowering, being able to decide on your own about something, even if it was only an article of clothing.

Suddenly, someone bumped into Naomi, resulting in us almost losing our footing. Fortunately, I was able to regain my composure fairly quickly.

“Sorry!” a man exclaimed, then resumed running toward the lower deck, dragging his wife and children with him.

“Unbelievable!” Naomi shouted, wanting to break free from my embrace, but I didn’t let her go, “Annoying rats.”

It was just an accident, everyone was in a hurry, and I could sense that she wanted to say something even more rude toward the family that just passed. “Honestly, Naomi, if you weren't forever booking everything at the last instant, we could have gone through the terminal instead of running along the dock like some squalid immigrant family,” supplied my mother. Her voice was laced with venom, it seemed like she believed those not wealthy individuals to be lower class, and subhuman.

I didn’t think the way she did, I didn’t care about wealth or blood. People were either good or bad, there were no other classes, really. Wealth certainly did not make someone a better person, my travel companions were evidence enough of this.

“All part of my charm, Amara. At any rate, it was my darling fiancé's beauty rituals which made us late,” Naomi explained, turning her attention toward me.

Of course. It’s the easiest way to blame me than herself. “You told me to change,” I responded truthfully, ashamed of how controlled I was by her.

“I couldn't let you wear your usual, sad attire, darling. It's bad luck,” she added and I had to hold back a dark laugh.

My whole life was bad luck, my marriage was going to be bad luck. Honestly, I didn’t see anything in my future that could indicate real luck.

“I felt like my _usual_ attire,” was the only response I could muster as we set our foot on the deck. The majestic ship loomed over me, the view beautiful, but filling me with dread and fear in equal measure.

“Here, I've pulled every string I could to book us on the grandest ship in history, in her most luxurious suites and you act as if you're going to your execution,” Naomi snarked. But she wasn’t far from truth.

It felt like I was going to my execution, because my life was about to end the moment I entered that ship. After the cruise, I would be forever trapped having her as my wife, a wife that I would never be capable of loving or even tolerating, along with a life that I would abhor until my very end.

That’s why I couldn’t help but feel my heart shatter into pieces as I entered Titanic. For all those people, it meant a new beginning, but for me it would be only the beginning of a sad end.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tags/Warnings: gambling, Dean's POV

I kept looking at the Titanic every so often, hoping that luck would be on my side that day. Somehow, I knew that there was something waiting for me on that ship and I felt like I had to get on it, no matter what.

That’s one of the reasons I didn’t hesitate betting everything in that game of poker that me, Benny and two fellas from Sweden were playing. I couldn’t explain why, but I was sure we would win.

I had to hold back a grin that threatened to find its way onto my face as I got back two cards in exchange of my previous two; it was a perfect set of cards and I was definitely able to beat their hands with the one I had held.

“You sure it was the right thing to bet  _ everything _ we had?” Benny whispered, his voice full of worry and doubt.

“Those who have nothing, have nothing to lose,” I said simply, my voice muffled a bit by the cigarette resting in my mouth. I inhaled some of the smoke and crossed my legs, eyeing my comrades.

It was so long since I had had the chance to have a cigarette that I found myself savouring the taste, trying to keep the smoke in my mouth for as long as possible. I let it out eventually, my gaze fixed on the fellas in front of me, the smoke rose up in lazy clouds.

They were talking about something, their voices hushed like they were afraid that we would hear them, even though they knew that neither I nor Benny understood Swedish. I didn’t have to be smart to know they were terrified of losing the tickets.

Bad for them, I guess.

“The moment of truth boys. Somebody's life's about to change,” I announced, giving Benny a single nod when he looked at me from the corner of his eye. The Swedes put their cards on the table simultaneously and I leaned forward, wanting to assess them critically.

“Let's see... Benny, Olaf, you've got squat. Sven, oh! Two pairs. Hmm,” I kept dragging it on, feeling everyone’s gaze on me, then I plucked the cigarette out of my mouth, leaving it in the ashtray. I was enjoying their misery as I already knew we had won. I turned my attention to my friend, a terrified expression on his face. “Sorry Benny.”

Benny rose from the seat. “Don’t say you lost everything, brother, or…”

“Sorry you’ll have to show your face at home to mama,” I slapped the cards on the table, grinning like a mad man, “‘cause you’re going to America! Full house boys!”

Benny pulled me into a hug, shouting and smiling the whole time. I knew how much it meant to him, he hadn't seen his family in a long time, he missed them. He let go of me quickly and we began gathering the money and the tickets, managing to do it just in time before those Swedish folks tripped the table over.

“Sorry boys. Three of a kind and a pair. I'm high and you're dry and we're going to America!” I exclaimed, even though I saw those two fellas were eager to get these two tickets back.

One of them tried to punch me, but I moved backwards, making him fall on the table and crush it under his weight. Benny moved in front of me protectively, but I put a hand on his shoulder and shook my head no. They weren’t worth our time.

“You’re not going to America,” the pub keeper said, making my attention turn toward him, “Titanic is, in five minutes,” he added, jabbing a finger towards the clock.

It was, indeed, five to noon. 

“Shit, Benny. Let’s go!” I threw my kit bag over my shoulder and went for the door, kicking it open.

We began running toward the ship, making our way through all the crowd and trying not to bump into anyone, but we were doing that anyway. We didn’t mean to, but ended up knocking over a few people and some luggage. We had to make it onto the ship, however, so loudly shouted apologies would have to do.

“Faster, Dean!” Benny yelled from the top of his lungs and we made our way onto the highest deck, seeing that they were closing the door to the ship already.

As I looked down, I almost lost my footing. It was so far to the ground that people down there looked like little ants. I withdrew my gaze and focused it on the officer.

“Wait, we’re passengers!” I shouted, feeling out of breath, taking the crumpled tickets out of the pocket of my pants and waving them at the man.   


As I stepped closer I extended my hand toward the officer and he took the pieces of paper from me hesitantly, as if he was afraid to touch me. Not the first time it has happened, though, people usually considered those that weren’t dressed in expensive clothes as dirty and disgusting. It wasn’t the case with me, but it still hurt to be looked at this way.

“Have you been through the inspection queue?” he asked, eyeing both of us suspiciously.

After taking a deep breath, I answered, “Of course! Anyway, we don’t have lice, we’re Americans.” I glanced at Benny, seeing him nod at what I said.

A moment passed, consisting of me boring my gaze into the man with confidence, finally making him say, “Right, come aboard.”

He stepped back to let us in and I entered the ship, knowing that Benny was right behind me. I glanced back and saw the man detach the dock from the ship, then close the door. Afterward, he gave our tickets to another man that seemed to have a list of some sort on the little desk in the corner of the room.

“Gundersen…” The man begin, rewriting something from the ticket onto the piece of paper, “and Gundersen,” he added, his gaze raising and landing onto the both of us. 

Well, we couldn’t exactly pass for brothers or two people that were related, but I hoped he wouldn’t be that suspicious. 

He handed us the tickets back after a short while and I shot him a wide grin, turning my attention toward Benny, who was smiling as well.

“Let’s go, brother,” I said cheerfully, grabbing Benny’s arm and dragging him further into the corridor. 

When we were a bit farther from those two men, we started laughing out loud and jumping like two kids, as if we couldn’t believe that we got onto the ship. That’s how excited we were for that journey.

“We are the luckiest sons of bitches in the world!” I couldn’t help but shout, patting Benny on the back with a bit too much force than necessary to which he reacted by doing the same thing.

Eager to see the departure, we ran as fast as we could to the deck, and I had to close my eyes when I saw the sun again. It was so bright it almost blinded me, and the feeling of the sun rays on my skin was unlike anything else, warm with promise.

Once I opened my eyes again, we began to make our way to the rails, our boots thumping loudly against the steel stairs as we ran, the view in front of us breathtaking.

The dark azure water in front of the ship seemed to have no end. The waves were rolling gently, crashing against the docks with a little force. An image like from a dream, an image that I never knew I would have the opportunity to see.

We stopped right in front of the rails and I began waving at the crowd, holding my kit bag with the other hand so it wouldn’t fall to the water. 

“You know someone?” Benny chuckled, taking place by my right side.

“Of course not. That's not the point,” I said simply, leaning against the rails, “Goodbye! Goodbye! I'll miss you!” I started yelling, smiling at the crowd that gathered on the docks, most of the people wanting to just see the departure of the already famous ship.

I heard Benny laugh sincerely, then he joined in, his voice gruff and hard compared to mine, but still cheerful, “Goodbye! I will never forget you!” 

We kept shouting, blowing kisses and waving, hearing the ship start and feeling how it began to move under us. The feeling was indescribable, making it seem as we were one with the mass of steel and iron, and God knows what that would carry us to America.

Soon, the people on the dock began to look more and more like a stain of dark paint. Strong wind made my hair flow in all the different ways as the ship started gaining speed. In no time, I couldn’t make out where the people started and the dock ended so I stopped waving eventually and turned to right to face Benny.

“How about we see our bunks?” I suggested, trying to smooth my hair out a bit.

“Sure, chief,” he responded, “lead the way.”

My friend gestured me to go first and I started weaving my way through all the people who had gathered near the rails to say their goodbyes. It took some time before we had room to breathe, but finally we disappeared under the deck, wanting to find where we were supposed to live for the few days it would take for us to cross the Atlantic.

The corridors seemed to be endless and I was fairly sure we were running in circles, because all of them looked the same. White paint and doors, there was nothing else there, it was slowly driving me nuts.

The only entertainment I had was watching people; they were all from various countries and I was able to distinguish lots of languages ringing in the confined space around us. I couldn’t help but stare at the colorful outfits some of them were wearing and my fingers were itching to grab my set of charcoals and begin drawing. All of those individuals were beautiful in their own way, I knew I would want to capture that later.

After many turns we managed to find the right corridor and then finding the right door was an easy task. I didn’t bother knocking, simply opened the door and got inside, giving a nod to the two other fellas who were already settled within.

The place looked quite nice and clean in comparison to the bunks that I’d slept in when I first sailed to England from America. I threw my bag on the lower bunk, sitting on the bed and trying it. It seemed quite comfortable as well.

Benny took the upper bunk, then, and I couldn’t help but smile as I laid on the bed covers. Who would’ve thought I would get so damn lucky?


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tags/Warnings: suggestive content, Cas' POV

The suite was even more luxurious than the house we used to live in before we made our way onto the ship. The dark wooden walls were finished with gold leaf, nearly blinding everyone who dared to look at the adornments. The loveseats in the sitting room had elaborately detailed cushions and they were highly comfortable, soft like the clouds of heaven.

However, I would rather have been uncomfortable and living away from all that opulence than miserable, as I was in that moment.

I decided to occupy myself with looking at the paintings that the porters brought to the suite, admiring the skills of the painters that made it possible for those masterpieces to be done. I gently trailed my fingers over the sure strokes of a paint brush, trying to imagine how the process of painting looked like. Where was the artist painting them? When? How long did it take the artist to finish? Did their family support what they had done with their life? Or had they been seen as taking a hobby too far, becoming laughed at and ignored for doing what they loved?

There was no way for me to ever really know, so I kept looking at the paintings, in awe of the skills of those artists. The brave combinations of the colors and designs were fascinating, opening worlds I had never experienced (probably never would) and I couldn’t withdraw my sight from those works of art. 

A steward handed me a glass of champagne. I took a sip, the taste as bitter as my future life would be, full of misery and tears.

No one from my family was able to appreciate the wonderful art surrounding us. Truly I was imprisoned with cretins.

“Those mud puddles were certainly a waste of money,” Naomi let out, her voice haughty and shrill. 

Of course, she considered buying them a complete whimsy, but I begged to differ. 

“You're wrong. They're fascinating, like in a dream,” I retorted, taking in another masterpiece, a portrait painted in geometrical shapes, rough but elegant. 

There was something different about this one. For me, it seemed like the artist tried to capture that the people are not what they seem, that what others think of them is far from who they really are and that they put on masks, not to reveal how they truly feel. I agreed completely with that view.

“There's truth without logic. What's his name again?” I wondered aloud, trying to find it on the back of the canvas. “Picasso,” I proclaimed, finding the artist’s name. The name sounded like a work of art on its own as it rolled from my tongue.

“He'll never amount to a thing, trust me. At least they were cheap,” Naomi huffed as she got up from her seat and walked closer to me and the paintings. She stopped in her tracks as someone entered the suite.

I looked up to see Naomi turn her head toward the door. She met the porter’s eyes and said, “Put that in the wardrobe.” The porter had Naomi’s safe on a handtruck.

Right. Nothing was more important than her riches.

Grabbing Degas’ painting, the one with the dancers, I stood up and went to the bedroom, hoping to set the masterpiece somewhere near the bed so I could look at it.  The dancers were far easier on the eyes than any other living person staying in our rooms.

As I looked around I spotted an empty place on the dresser and located the painting there, smiling at the maid, Hannah, that was hanging my clothes already.

“It smells so brand new. Like they built it all just for us,” the maid spoke, awe in her voice. Hannah and I would talk sometimes, and it was pleasant to hear her thoughts and whimsies. It seemed like she couldn’t stop looking at all the luxury around her and, if I didn’t abhor wealth that much, I might’ve understood her, “I mean, just to think that tonight, when I crawl between the sheets, I’ll be the first…” her statement was cut short when Naomi entered our bedroom.

My wife-to-be treated Hannah like a slave, not like a human being, so Hannah never conversed with Naomi unless absolutely necessary. I liked Hannah, she was quite an observant person, able to pick up that I wasn’t happy with the arrangement that I was forced to agree to.

“And when I crawl between the sheets on the wedding night, you’ll still be my first,” Naomi drawled, her voice low and suggestive, making me blush like a virgin.

It was obvious that Naomi never shied away from lustful innuendos. It was one of the reasons that men didn’t take her seriously and that she agreed to marry me, mainly because I was the only one who wouldn’t have it in himself to put a stop to her antics. She never failed to make me uncomfortable with this and it seemed like that was exactly Naomi’s goal. Making me miserable.

“S’cuse me, Miss,” Hannah blurted out as she got out of the bedroom in a hurry, passing Naomi walking toward me. She must’ve been surprised to hear such a statement from a lady, but if you were to ask me, Naomi was as far from a lady as I was from being a free person.

My fiancée flashed me a smirk and grabbed my hand into hers, dragging me away from the painting, like she was afraid of the work of art claiming me as its property. “The first and only. Forever,” she added and I couldn’t help but feel my heartbeat quicken, but not from love or desire, rather from fear and disgust.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tags/Warnings: Dean's POV

The horizon looked magical.

Warm oranges and reds were mixing with the deep azure of the water, like God himself had painted across the sky and the sea. If there was an artist on this ship, he would have been sitting near us, on the bow, and painting this meeting of water and air. I’ve never seen anything more beautiful in my life and I’ve seen a lot of things, that was for certain.

I leaned over the rails a bit, closing my eyes and tried to feel everything around me; the sun on my skin, the cold metal under my fingers, the ship swaying lightly under my feet. It felt like I was in a bewitching dream and I hoped I’d never wake up from it.

“You with me, chief?” Benny asked, chuckling, and I opened my eyes, to look at him.

“Mhm.” I nodded, a wide grin on my face. I couldn’t believe we had gotten so lucky.

I glanced down, leaning over the rails again, wanting to see the water more closely. The prow was cutting the surface like a knife, sending the crystal clear water up and to the sides. As I strained my eyes even more, I spotted a dolphin in front of the ship; it seemed like the animal was racing with the machinery, trying to determine who would be faster.

“Benny, look!” I nudged him with my elbow and he leaned over the rails as well, a low laugh escaping him as he took in what I had seen.

Soon, more dolphins appeared next to the first one, there were a lot of them. I wasn’t even able to count how many, because they were moving constantly, changing places and racing with each other.

Benny grinned as he kept looking at those graceful animals and I couldn’t help but smile too. The world was a fascinating place, no doubt about that.

“He’s gonna jump!” I pointed to one of the dolphins and it jumped, water splashing around as he dove back into the water. Other dolphins began repeating the movement, jumping and diving back in, crisscrossing right in front of the bow. They didn’t seem afraid of the ship at all, they were fearless and free.

Just like me.

I was never afraid of anything neither bound to something.

“I can see the Statue Of Liberty, already.” Benny let out, pointing with his finger at the horizon, his eyes nearly sparkling with the excitement. “It’s very small, of course.” He winked at me and I let out a chuckle.

“Sure.” I stuck my tongue out at him and he playfully swatted my shoulder with his right hand, then rolled his eyes.

We kept watching the dolphins as they swam, admiring their strength and grace, eager to see what else this journey would bring.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tags/Warnings: smoking, Cas' POV

Another day, another meaningless twenty four hours, more useless conversations about the same things over and over again.

How pathetic.

During the times my presence was required at gatherings with other rich people (who had nothing in their brains, except for the lust over power and money), I would zone out and try to block out what they were talking about. Naomi would drink, as always, and I had to fight with myself not to shake my head in disapproval at the amount of wine and champagne she was downing. It would do nothing but annoy Naomi if showed what I thought she shouldn’t be drinking so much, and I didn’t want to suffer her arguing with me in public.

In that moment, we were sat around the table for tea as it was too early for dinner yet. I turned my attention back to the conversation, trying my best to keep a polite smile on my face. This time, they were discussing the beauty of the ship we were sailing on. It seemed like they considered Titanic the eighth wonder of the world. 

“Our master shipbuilder, Mr. Shurley here, designed her from the keel plates up,” Mr. MacLeod said, his British accent shining through every word.

“Well, I may have knocked her together, but the idea was Mr. MacLeod’s,” Mr. Shurley explained, smiling softly at all of us gathered around the table. “He envisioned a steamer so grand in scale, and so luxurious in its appointments, that its supremacy would never be challenged. And here she is, willed into solid reality,” he added, gesturing around to all what was around us; all the luxury, all the expensive furniture, the adornments.

I retained my polite smile as both men’s gazes wandered toward me, not wanting to be impolite to those gentlemen. It wasn’t their fault I was forced to come on this ship and spend those few days in miserable company, wanting nothing more than to break free and run as far away from my mother and wife-to-be as I possibly could.

“Why are the ships always being called "she"? Is it because men think half the women around have big sterns and should be weighed in tonnage?” Ellen Harvelle snarked, taking a sip of champagne, but everyone around the table considered it a joke, laughing out loud, even though I knew she didn’t mean for it to be one.

Ellen was one of the few people that weren’t as infatuated with money and wealth as my family and I thoroughly enjoyed every conversation I had with her. Her husband inherited an immense fortune after some long lost relative, but that didn’t make her act like she was entitled to everything, rather the opposite. She didn’t choose to sit around and do nothing, but tried to do some good with the wealth she had by opening garment factories that the women were free to work at. Most of the people claimed her to be insane for trying to disrupt the world’s order, but she didn’t care about that. However, most men continued considering women to be second class citizens and didn’t want to acknowledge the fact that they were as equal as men.  
  
“Just another example of the men setting the rules their way,” Ellen added, letting out a sigh. Her daughter, Joanna, was sitting right beside Ellen. Her eyes were fixed on the empty plate in front of her, her teeth worrying her bottom lip. I knew she wanted to add to that conversation, but didn’t want to seem rude, so she kept her mouth closed.  
  
Fortunately, a waiter came to the table to collect the orders and the conversation died down. I reached for a cigarette case to the pocket of my dress jacket and opened it, pulling a cigarette out. Lips clamped around the cigarette, I lit the tip and drew in a long breath, holding the smoke in my lungs before letting out a long breath. My nerves calmed a little with each drag of the cigarette. Smoking was one of the few things that helped me relax during gatherings of all sorts.  
  
“You know I don't like that, Castiel,” Amara huffed out, outraged, as I blew out some of the smoke her way. I relished the taste of it as the smoke billowed out of my mouth, the expression on Amara’s face was priceless.  
  
“He knows,” Naomi said simply, then snatched the cigarette from my hand and stubbed it out on the ashtray.  
  
If, nearby, there was something I could have punched, I’d definitely let my anger out on it. How dare they control me like that? It was no concern of theirs what I did with my body.

I took a deep breath, attempting to calm my nerves, and hid the cigarette case back in my jacket pocket. It was difficult trying to ignore how my hands were trembling from the anger I felt at yet another injustice committed against me. Joanna looked at me with compassion in her eyes and I shot her a weak smile. Fortunately for Joanna, her mother didn’t want her to be miserable and she was free to marry whomever she wanted. I knew she pitied me and felt sorry for me; it made me want to shout to all the heavens that I didn’t want to live this way, but it wouldn’t bring me anything, but shame and misery.

“We'll both have the lamb. Rare, with a little mint sauce,” Naomi said to the waiter and the man nodded, scribbling the order in his notebook. She turned to me after the man went to gather the orders from Mr. Shurley and Mr. MacLeod. “You like lamb, don't you darling?” 

Ellen had to suppress a laugh as she heard what Naomi said. “So, you gonna cut his meat for him too there, Naomi?” I couldn’t help but blush at that remark, I felt vastly powerless and humiliated with Naomi babying me in public. Ellen seemed to sense my distress, because she quickly changed the topic asking, “Hey, who came up with the name Titanic? You, Fergus?” 

“Yes, actually. I wanted to convey sheer size. And size means stability, luxury, safety, and, above all, impeccable strength,” Mr. MacLeod beamed, pride clear in his voice, but I was bored of discussing the vessel, so my mind turned to mischief.

“Do you know of Dr. Freud?” I asked Mr. MacLeod, but he didn’t seem to know who I was talking about so I carried on with an explanation, “His ideas about the male preoccupation with size might be of particular interest to you, Mr. MacLeod.” I threw a glance in Mr. Shurley’s way and saw him trying not to laugh at what I had implied; Ellen just shook her head with a half-grin on her face, and Jo looked like he was about to giggle.  
  
“My God, Castiel, what's gotten into-” my mother choked out, I bet she couldn’t believe what she had just heard, and I got up from the table, smoothing out my jacket.  
  
“Excuse me.” I stalked off, wanting to get away from this toxic environment at least for a little while.   
  
My feet carried me outside and to the rails; to the sun and freedom, to what I didn’t have. I wrapped my hands around the cold metal, hoping that it would bring me comfort of some sort, ground me, but I knew it wouldn’t help much.  
  
Gaze wandering over the people who were, supposedly, having the time of their lives while on Titanic, my heart ached for the happiness that they were feeling in that moment. They all seemed so careless and content, those mostly from the lower decks, the third class. I thought I understood why.  
  
They weren’t pressured to do anything, they could do whatever they wanted, act however they wanted and spend time with people that they fancied. They were like birds, flying high up to the sky, not bound to anything.  
  
I wish I could fly with them.

I turned my gaze to the left, wanting to take a look at the ocean, but one of the people from third class caught my attention.

It felt like all the air had been punched out of my lungs. He looked divine. His hair was in disarray, ruffled by the wind and probably his hand, and I swear he was the most beautiful person I had ever seen up to that moment in my life. He kept staring at me and I withdrew my gaze for a second. I felt his stare boring through me, though, so I dared to steal a glance again. This beautiful stranger looked starstruck as I returned his stare.

We were looking at each other with such intensity, like we wanted to know what the other one was thinking. It seemed like he could see my very soul, just through this simple stare.


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tags/Warnings: smoking, Dean's POV

I finally found something, or rather someone, perfect to draw.

The girl and her dad were watching seagulls, their faces lit up with wide smiles, and I couldn’t help but open my leather bound sketching pad and start to sketch, sliding the conte crayon on the rough paper in sure strokes.

I knew how to draw, there was no doubt about that, and, soon, a beautiful image was coming together on the page. Finished, I grinned as I took in the result. It seemed vibrant, like the girl and her father were about to move out of the page and into this world, and I saw Benny looking at it, nodding at me with a sure smile. He seemed to like it as well.

A steward appeared from the corner of the promenade, leashes for dogs in his hands. The animals were sniffing the floor, their tails wagging around. He passed us soon and kept walking them onto the opposite side of our deck.

“That's typical. First class dogs come down here to take a shit,” mumbled a man standing next to Benny, cigarette in his mouth.

His hair was long, almost shoulder length, but it looked like he took good care of it. He was tall, hovering over me easily, but he seemed friendly enough.

I turned my attention to him and said with a shrug, “That's so we know where we rank in the scheme of things.”  
  
“Like we could forget,” he chuckled, then extended his right hand toward me and added, “Samuel Winchester.”  
  
I shook his hand firmly, smiling. “That’s interesting. Dean Winchester.”  
  
“Two Winchesters? That must be destiny.” He smiled at that as well.  
  
As I let go of his hold, my gaze wandered toward the well deck, stopping at a man standing on the first class promenade, right by the rails.   
  
His suit screamed expensive, but that wasn’t what drew me in. The way he looked at the sea; it seemed like he wanted it to consume him, like he wanted to drown in it and never see the surface. It was someone in pain, someone who suffered greatly. However, I couldn’t help but admire how handsome he was as well.   
  
It was unreal, he looked like an angel descended from heaven, only for me to realise how out of reach he was. Because I knew that I would never get more than a glance.  
  
Surprisingly, the man turned his attention to me, catching me in the act of consuming him with my gaze. I couldn’t look away, even if I wanted to, but I must have intimidated him, because he suddenly averted his gaze back to the ocean.  
  
A few seconds later, he glanced towards me again, probably curious as to why I couldn’t stop looking at him.  
  
A woman walked up to the man, and put an arm on his left shoulder, which he shook off. It seemed like she was trying to talk to him, but he turned on his feet and hurried away.

“Forget it, boy. Sooner an angel flies out your ass than he dares to speak with you,” Samuel said and I knew he was right.

I didn’t stand a chance, no matter how much I liked to believe that dreams could come true.


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tags/Warnings: homophobia, RAPE/NON-CON (not between Cas/Dean), physical abuse, mental abuse, suicidal thoughts and tendencies, Cas' POV

If Naomi didn’t come for me, it seemed like I would stay near those rails to watch that man until the end of the cruise. I couldn’t shake him from my thoughts, even though I knew it was probably the last time we would see each other. 

Before that moment on the deck, I had never looked at another man the way I had stared at that stranger. I didn’t consider men attractive or captivating, not in the same way the opposite sex normally piqued my interest, but it seemed different with this dirty-blonde-haired man. Because that’s who he was, a man that I managed to set my eyes upon for a few seconds. And that was it.

“Are you even listening to what I’m saying?” Naomi scoffed, grabbing my arm and pushing me inside our suite after she opened the door. My back hit the wood-covered wall and I restrained myself from hissing in pain.

“Yes,” I said simply and she raised her hand, slapping me across the right cheek, making my skin burn under her touch. It hurt, but I didn’t make a sound. I knew it wouldn’t be a good idea.

“No. You’re ignoring me, you scum,” she hissed, stepping into my personal space and I felt like someone put the weight of the whole Titanic on my chest, making it impossible for me to breathe, crushing me to pieces. Her breath reeked of alcohol and I turned my head away in disgust. “What were you doing while standing by those rails? Eyeing gals and fellas?”

“N-no.” I stuttered out, feeling my voice shake. I took a deep breath, trying to stop the shaking. I didn’t want her to lose control, because it never ended well for me. “I needed some fresh air, that’s all.”

“You’re lying!” Naomi exclaimed, her fingers digging into my shoulders, and I bit my lip to stop myself from crying. “I saw you looking at that man from the third class, do you think I’m blind?” 

“Of course not, I’m sorry. It won’t happen again, I apologise.” I felt my heart beating so fast that it seemed like it wanted to escape from my chest. I couldn’t take a deep breath. I was panicking and could hear the blood rushing through my bloodstream in my ears, as I started to feel hot. The collar of my white shirt felt as if was strangling my neck like a vice.

She put her hand on my throat, magnifying all the fear even more, and I didn’t dare move, hoping she wouldn’t do more than that, hoping that she wouldn’t hurt me. “I know.” She let go and stepped away from me, her fingers reaching to the back of the dress slowly.

Please, no.

“Now, take off your clothes and lie on the bed.” Her voice reeked of power, she wasn’t asking or requesting, it was an order, a demand. I desperately wanted to shake my head no, to beg her to stop, to plead her not to do that. Before I had a chance, though, Naomi added, “Or I will tell everyone that you have eyes for a man.” She clumsily slid the skirts down her body, leaving herself only in a corset and bloomers.

I felt a lump in my throat rise. I was just admiring the beauty of this man, I wasn’t harming anyone in any way, but if someone were to find out, I’d never be able to live normally.

Men in relationships with other men were being loathed upon and discriminated. If anyone were to find out, I would be disinherited and forced to cut all the ties with any people I had known. There would be no going back from losing my position in the society and, even though it didn’t matter to me, it would bring me even more trouble than I had already had. I couldn’t give anyone even the slightest reason to assume that I would fancy someone of the same sex as I’ve had enough suffering in my life already.

I nodded and shrugged off my jacket, letting it fall to the floor, feeling tears run down my face. She always took what she wanted, she didn’t care if I agreed to it or not, and she made it clear I wasn’t in the position to decline, but she rarely went that far.

She hit me and yelled at me more often than not, sometimes even groped me, her lips crashing into mine, even though I didn’t want that, but I didn’t dare to push her away. I knew I couldn’t do anything about it. I just had to let her do what she wanted and pretend it didn’t happen, no one would believe me anyway. What virile man wouldn’t want some woman throwing herself at him? That is what they would think.

“I know you want this, but you’re stubborn. That’s why you refuse to admit that you secretly crave me,” she said, unlacing her corset from behind, and I was hoping she would turn back from this. My hands were shaking as I was unbuttoning my dress shirt, but I didn’t stop. I didn’t want to be hit or punished in any other way. I already felt impure and humiliated.

The next to go were my pants and I nearly stumbled over them as I took them off, but I kept my posture straight. There was no delaying it or trying to say no as I took off the rest of my clothes, my skin being the only thing that stood between Naomi and my soul. There was nowhere I could run, nowhere I could hide.

By the time I was done, Naomi was wearing only a bodice, but I didn’t stare at her exposed form. My gaze was set on the floor, because I could tell that she didn’t want me to look, unless she desired for me to look. The only use she had of me was being her punching bag and toy, I meant nothing to her.

“To your bedroom,” she ordered, swaying a bit as she walked, and I scrambled over my feet to oblige, feeling disgusted with myself as I felt my cock getting hard against my will. She had my body trained, but not my mind.

The sheets were soft as I laid down on the bed, but they didn’t feel pleasant against my skin. That softness was nothing but a promise of the torture I would soon go through.

Her gaze was predatory and I felt myself shrinking under it, getting smaller and smaller, wishing I could disappear. She laid down right next to me and I struggled not to run away, not to move. I didn’t want her to touch me, I didn’t want her to do anything.

“Give me your hand,” she said calmly, but I knew there was no room to argue, and I extended my right hand toward her.

She grabbed it forcefully and spread her legs, guiding my hand to touch her, to spread her wetness around. Naomi began grinding onto my hand, her moves violent and rapid, her hips raising from the bed, her essence coating my hand, slick like poison; my hand was almost burning from the touch alone.

I closed my eyes, trying to think about anything but this, anything but what was happening at that moment. However, there was no escape and I had no choice but to take this like a man.

It didn’t take long and I felt her leaking more wetness over my hand, gasps and curses leaving her lips. I took a deep breath, hoping that it would be over soon, and her thighs began trembling, a loud moan echoing in the silence of the room when she stopped moving.

Naomi swatted my hand away after that and wrapped her hand around my length, starting to roughly move it up and down. She stroke it rhythmically, my eyes welling up with tears at the pain. It was all mechanic, absolutely no feeling or emotions flying through me. I felt empty, like I was drowning in the ocean and I couldn’t hear, see or feel anybody, hidden under all the water.

I liked feeling empty, because the reality was overwhelming. Too loud, too bright, too obnoxious, too much.

Escaping into the safety of my mind was the only thing that kept me alive, but my mind would betray me sometimes as well, and it did betray me in that exact moment.

I wasn’t able to turn it down completely, but I succeeded at keeping panic at bay as Naomi let go of me and moved to straddle me. I closed my eyes and the darkness surrounded me, but I felt and heard everything.

I felt Naomi sinking down onto me, her nails dragging across my stomach, marking me up like her property. I felt her soft skin on mine and I should’ve enjoyed it, because she was beautiful, but I couldn’t. I just couldn’t.

I felt her moving up and down quickly, her pussy opening up around me, wet and soft, but I would be lying if I were to say it felt good. It felt horrible. I couldn’t help but clench my teeth once in awhile, my fists gripping the sheets with so much force they were going numb in a matter of seconds. 

I heard her breathing, loud and ragged, her moans high-pitched, and I wished I could block those sounds out. I wished I could focus on something else, but there was nothing there, only the sounds Naomi was making echoed in the room.

She picked up her speed, then, her skin slapping against mine and I let out a sob, only then realising that I had been crying yet again. Fortunately, Naomi was too lost in her own pleasure to realise that, the frequency of her cries and moans increasing with every passing second.  
  
I couldn’t hold back for longer, even though I didn’t want to feel any pleasure while being with her, not like this. Luckily, I felt her go still, wetness rushing out onto me, soaking my skin and the bed.  
  
I forced my eyelids to peer open, even more tears pouring down my face. I looked anywhere but at Naomi, though, glad it was over, but ashamed with myself as well. How could I call myself a man if she was able to do everything what she wanted? How could I call myself a man if I let her hurt and humiliate me in any way she thought was suitable? And was it sick to understand, and be grateful, that one of us was barren, because she had not caught with child after all of these times? I would never want a child to be born of this loveless relationship.  
  
After a short while, she slid my cock out of her opening, then got up from the bed, turning away from me.  
  
“You’re mine. And that wasn’t so difficult, was it?” Naomi got out of my bed and began getting dressed, a huge wave of relief washing over me as I realised it was over, at least for now.  
  
I wished someone was there to tell me everything would be okay, I wish someone would be there for me and love me like I knew she never would.  
  
“N-no.” That was the only answer I could muster, my body shaking slightly, my vision blurry from the crying.

“Good. Get changed and come to our private deck, we have a gathering to attend and your mother won’t be happy if we’re late,” she announced and got out of the suite, the sound of the door being shut made me flinch, as if someone had hit me.

I got up from the bed and walked over to the living room, picking my clothes from the floor and trying to get dressed, but I was shaking so badly that I couldn’t do it. I sank to the floor and wrapped my arms around my body, rocking back and forth, hoping the repetitive movement would help me compose myself.

What did I do to deserve being treated this way? What had I done wrong? What was wrong with me? Would she treat me differently if I were different?

Billions of questions were passing through my mind as I sobbed, but I didn’t find a single answer to any of them. And thinking that this relationship would go on until I were to die filled me with dread and fear.

My hands and feet were ice cold by the time I calmed down a bit, enough to start getting dressed. If I could have, I would have stayed in that suite forever or, better, run away as far and as fast as I could. But I had nowhere to go, I couldn’t do it. I was all alone.

As I was ready to go out, I took a look at myself in the mirror, hoping it wouldn’t be obvious as to how broken and defeated I felt. Fortunately, there was no bruising on my cheek, and I wouldn’t have to lie about how I got hurt. I put a fake smile on my face, neatly brushed and oiled my hair, and wiped the rest of the tears away from my face, knowing I was doomed until the very last breath I would take on this earth.

I didn’t remember how I got to the gathering, but suddenly I was sitting at the table, trying to pretend everything was okay. I was too numb to notice anything was happening around me at all, my mind in a perpetual state of emptiness.

I excused myself, saying I wanted to get some rest, and they didn’t notice that something was wrong. Or maybe they did, but they didn’t care at all?

Nonetheless, I went to my room, tears starting to fall again as I looked in the mirror, knowing that what I was about to do would put me out of my misery. I had had enough. I had tried so hard to make everyone around me happy and satisfied, I didn’t want to do it anymore, I couldn’t do it anymore.

I ripped the jacket off my back, throwing it on the carpeted floor of the suite. I sank to my knees, feeling sobs rock my body, lump rising in my throat. I was terrified, but I knew it wouldn’t be as bad as living the rest of my life in misery. It was the lesser of two evils, I already accepted the fact that I wasn’t going to be given a chance to be happy in this cruel world.

The next thing I knew I was running along the promenade to the stern, passing multiple people on my way, but I couldn’t even see them. My vision was blurry with tears, I saw nearly nothing, but I felt everything.

The cold seeping into my bones, the wind ruffling my hair, my heart beating wildly. Like it had every intention of bursting out of my chest and giving me freedom, saving me from suffering.

I looked around, making sure that there was no one around the stern who could see me, and stepped closer to the rails, nothing but ocean in front of me.

It looked beautiful, but violent in a way, mesmerizing, but also captivating. Tempting me, wanting me to give up my life for it, begging me to join it.

The rails were cold under my touch as I wrapped my hands around them, my feet finding their way onto the white-painted gunwale. My grip on the metal tightened and I kept climbing, slowly, because I feared I’d slip, but with no intention to stop.  

Eventually, I ended up on the other side of the railing, nothing but ocean under me, my hands outstretched behind me. Those hands were the only link to my life.

If I let go, if I stopped holding the rails, it’d be over.

I’d be free.


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tags/Warnings: smoking, Dean's POV

The night was cold, but that didn’t stop me from admiring the beauty of the stars above while laid out on one of the many benches set on the deck, smoking. I felt like I was in a dream. It was silent around me, the only thing I could hear were the waves crashing onto the ship, and it seemed like I was all alone.

Being alone was something I got used to when I left home. I had nothing to my name apart for the clothes that were on my body, and the sketches I drew, but I was the happiest man in the world. That was one of the best decisions that I made in my life, and to think that it brought me here? I couldn’t help but think that I was meant to make all the decisions that I had made in my life, if only they were going to lead me where I was in that moment. Destiny had called me to Titanic.

I blew out some of the smoke, taking a deep breath afterwards. There was salt in the air; slightly bitter, but fresh nonetheless. I closed my eyes, imagining I was floating or flying, like a bird’s feather being carried by the wind, the ship lulling me to sleep.

I laid like that for some time, then I heard loud steps that kept getting closer and closer with every passing second. It seemed like someone was running toward me, or toward the stern.

I sat up abruptly, then looked around, trying to locate the source of the noise. My gaze landed on a man running toward the rails. He had nothing on, but his pants and a dress shirt, and I felt chills run down my spine at the thought alone. He was probably freezing, but he didn’t seem to care about it at all. 

The man almost crashed into the rails and I got up, slowly walking toward the stern. I needed to know what was going on, I couldn’t let him do something stupid. Inhaling some more of the smoke, I almost choked on it when I saw the face of the man as he turned around.

It was the one that was looking at me from the promenade deck a few hours earlier. 

When I saw that he put his hands on the rails and began climbing them I didn’t know what to do. I knew I should probably get help, but I had no idea if someone was around here or not. What if I didn’t make it on time and he did something stupid because of me? I couldn’t let that happen.

Instead, I quickly crossed the remaining distance, but tried to keep some space between me and him as I saw him get on the other side of the rails. I prayed to no one in particular that his hands would be strong enough to keep him there, without giving out and making him fall down.

The man kept staring at the water; it seemed like he couldn’t withdraw his gaze from the waves. Then, he leaned forward a bit, the sight making my breath hitch. I took the cigarette out of my mouth and slowly began getting closer. I didn’t want to scare him and make him lose his hold on the rails.

Please, don’t jump. Please, don’t jump.

When I was close enough that I knew he would be able to hear me, I said loudly, “Don't do it.”

He whipped his head around at the sound of my voice and squinted his eyes as his gaze landed onto me. 

“Stay back! Don't come any closer!” his voice was raspy, and when I saw tears staining his cheeks it was obvious he had been crying. His eyes, however. I nearly lost myself in those bluest of ever blues. Those were the most beautiful eyes I’ve ever seen, they would be perfect to draw, they were unreal. For a moment, I couldn’t help but think that he wasn’t a man, but an angel.

He was different than all the men in the world. I couldn’t explain why exactly, but I wanted to look at him all the time, every day, until the end of my life, and I would never get tired of that. I knew that for sure.

“Take my hand. I'll pull you back in,” I promised, taking a few steps closer to the man, but he shook his head no.

“No! Stay where you are. I mean it. I'll let go.” There was a clear threat in his voice and I stopped, just like he told me. I didn’t want him to hurt himself.

I raised my hands up, showing that I wasn’t going to do anything, unless he wanted me to. Then, I showed him the cigarette I was holding in my hand. I sucked in some smoke and exhaled it out. Then, slowly, I walked to the other side of the rails and threw it to the ocean.

“No, you won't,” I retorted confidently, hoping that my judgement wasn’t clouded. He seemed desperate, but he didn’t look like he would jump. At least, I hoped he wouldn’t. I didn’t want him to. 

“What do you mean no I won't?” He seemed so outraged that I dared to assume something about him. His anger would have been hilarious, if he hadn’t been on the other side of the rails. Instead his anger was terrifying. “Don't presume to tell me what I will and will not do. You don't know me,” he said, but I wanted nothing more than to disagree.

It felt like I knew him better than I could. Impossible as we had only just met.

“You would have done it already,” I said shrugging, the hairs standing upright on my neck as I felt the cold breeze fan over my skin. “Now, come on, take my hand,” I encouraged, hesitantly stepping a bit closer to the man.

He let go of the rails with his left hand and wiped the tears away from his face. I had no idea how he didn’t lose his balance, but, fortunately, he got back to gripping the rails in no time. “You're distracting me. Go away,” he ordered.

I chuckled. “I can't. I'm involved now. If you let go I have to jump in after you.” I was deadly serious and began to take off my jacket, letting it fall to the deck afterward. I hoped I wouldn’t have to jump, but I knew I would do that if he jumped. I couldn’t let him die, no matter what, even though he was a complete stranger to me. I had trouble understanding the sudden need to protect him, but that didn’t mean I could push that need away somehow.

“Don't be absurd. You'll be killed.” He seemed nearly offended at what I said, like, somehow, he thought I was joking and that he wasn’t worth saving. Boy, how wrong he was.

“I’m a good swimmer,” I retorted, putting my feet on one of the rails so I could start unlacing my left shoe.

After a moment of silence, he stated, “The fall alone would kill you.”

He wasn’t wrong, probably. I wasn’t sure if we would make it out alive if I were to jump after him. “It would hurt. I'm not saying it wouldn't. To be honest, I'm a lot more concerned about the water being so cold.”   


I could see that only then did he realize what’s been happening. The expression on his face shifted from numbness to immense fear, though he tried to hide it.

“How cold?” he threw nonchalantly, trying to keep his expression unfazed.

I was already finished with unlacing the left shoe so I took it off and responded, “Freezing. Maybe a couple degrees over.” 

There was no need to alleviate the facts, I hoped that the reality would make him realize jumping wasn’t a good idea.

He looked genuinely terrified after those few words, but that was the only chance I had of rescuing him. I bet his hands were slowly giving out, that meant I didn’t have much time. 

I had to convince him to let me pull him in as soon as possible, so I asked, “Ever been to Kansas?”    


“No,” he responded, pure confusion painted on his face.

“Well, their winters aren’t the warmest, and I grew up there, in Lawrence. Once when I was a kid, me and my father were ice-fishing... Ice-fishing's where you chop a hole in the-” I didn’t have a chance to finish this one, as he interrupted me mid-sentence.

“I know what ice fishing is!” he sounded annoyed, as if I offended him by what I said, but that wasn’t my intention at all.

“Sorry.” I smiled apologetically. “Just... You look like kind of an indoor fella.” He seemed to accept the apology, so I carried on. “Anyway, I went through some thin ice and I'm telling you, water that cold... Like that right down there…” I gestured to the sea and shook my head, even the thought alone was triggering how it felt when I fell to the water that day. “It hits you like a thousand knives all over your body. You can't breathe, you can't think…” I wasn’t exaggerating, it was all true. “Least not about anything but the pain.” I breathed out, then focused my gaze on the man again.

He was staring at me still, but I was happy to see that his grip on the rails was strong. Good. It meant that he wanted to fight. It meant that, deep inside, he held an ounce of hope, or maybe even two. He didn’t want to die, he wanted to live.

All he  needed was someone to show him that life was worth living, that it could be beautiful, that it could mean something. And I promised myself I would take it upon myself to show him his life was worth something and to someone.

I took off my right shoe, then said, “Which is why I'm not looking forward to jumping in after you. But like I said, I don't see a choice.” I really didn’t see one. “I guess I'm kinda hoping you'll come back over the rail and get me off the hook here,” I admitted, wanting nothing but for him to agree for me to pull him back in.

“You’re crazy,” he snorted, and I couldn’t help but smile at that remark. That’s what my father told me when I decided to leave home, but I didn’t bother listening to him, or looking back, for that matter. And I never, not even once, regretted that decision.

“That's what everybody says. But with all due respect, I'm not the one hanging off the back of a ship.” I took a few steps closer, cautiously, but it seemed like he was starting to trust me. 

No matter how twisted and crazy it might sound, that man trusted me enough to let me get closer. He knew nothing about me, but he kept listening to me, he kept holding onto his desire to live.

Eventually, I was standing by his side, my right arm flush with his left. I extended my hand slowly toward the sea and him, and said, “Come on. You don't want to do this. Give me your hand.”

His gaze was focused on me for what seemed like ages, his piercing stare boring into me, and never moving elsewhere.

“Alright,” he said eventually and I breathed out a sigh of relief.

He let go of the rail with his right hand and firmly gripped mine, his hand cold as ice. Then, he began turning around, eventually ending up with his back to the water, his face inches from mine as I kept holding his hand.

“I’m Dean Winchester,” I said, giving his hand a barely there shake, a smile finding its way onto my face.

“Pleased to meet you, Mr. Winchester,” he responded, trying to make his voice sound sure and confident, but I could hear it barely quivering. “Castiel Novak,” he added, and I couldn’t help but smile even wider.

“You're gonna have to write it down for me,” I replied and he chuckled, his face lighting up with a sincere smile.

His smile lit up his face, and it was troubling to consider that something had happened to this man, something terrible enough, that he almost would never have shared his smile again. He was absolutely perfect.

Then, he began climbing the rails slowly, careful as not to slip and fall down. I kept watching Castiel’s steps, eager for him to already be on the safe side of the rails. I had never thought someone’s hold on me could be so strong, but his grip was like a vice. There was so much strength in that man, I couldn’t believe it. Something awful must have happened if it broke him enough to make him try to kill himself.

One false move and Castiel slipped on the rails. He would have fallen into the waves below, but I didn’t let go. I could feel my muscles flexing as I supported the weight of his whole body by my one hand. The rails were biting into my body as I was pulled onto them, only just able to prevent myself from falling down, into the depths of the ocean.

Castiel let out an ungodly scream as he was dangling, but I assured him, “I’ve got you, come on!”

He gripped the lowest rail with his free hand, then, and began pulling himself up, but it was obvious he was terrified. I forced on a smile, as a way to tell him that he would be okay, and continued helping him up. My muscles strained with the effort.

Without warning, he slipped again, and my hand banged on the rails as he hung even lower. But I didn’t let go, no matter how much it hurt me.

“Help! Help!” Castiel shouted, and I braced myself, my left hand gripping the rails, so I could try to pull him up again. He seemed distracted, just waving his hands and legs; shock flooding his body.

“Listen, listen!” I exclaimed, trying to turn Castiel’s attention back to me. “I’ve got you and I won’t let go. Now, pull yourself up.” He nodded and did as I told him, gripping the rails and pulling himself up a bit.

After that, he let go of the rail and gripped the one above, doing exactly the same thing. I backed away a bit, gradually pulling him up. 

“Yes, that’s it. You got this,” I reassured, gritting my teeth as I felt my hand cramping. Castiel gripped the last rail and pulled himself up, making it possible for me to sneak my arms around his waist. His hands found their way around my neck like it was the most natural thing in the world and I backed away from the rails, smiling once I managed to drag him onto the ship completely.

I lost my footing as all of Castiel’s weight went into my arms and I tripped. We fell onto the deck, spinning in such a way so that I ended up on top of Castiel, his warm body right under mine.

Suddenly, I heard fast footsteps nearby and, when I raised my head, I saw two officers running toward us.

Before I had the chance to get up, however, one of them dragged me away from crying Castiel, and I put my hands up in the air. I meant no harm, I was only trying to save his life, and I succeeded. 

“Here, what's all this?” one of the men asked me, pointing to Castiel. 

I didn’t say anything, I didn’t know if he wanted other people to know what happened. I just kept my mouth shut, hoping he’d explain what was going on. Castiel’s shirt was torn in one place, probably from the sharp pieces of metal on the rails, and I wished I could step closer and comfort him somehow. He was shaking and crying, it seemed like the knowledge of what could have happened was only catching up to him in that moment.

After a moment, the officers shared a look and one of them said, “Here you, stand back! Don't move an inch!”

I did as I was told, freezing on the spot, having no idea what they thought had happened.

“Fetch the Master at Arms,” one of them ordered to the other and the shorter one left, running away from the stern.

After some time, he came back with the woman that I saw Castiel with earlier and two men. One of them was dressed as a passenger, the other one was probably an officer of some sort, wearing a uniform.

He stepped behind me and yanked my hands behind my back without any warning, while the other one helped Castiel up. I felt the cold metal of the handcuffs on my skin, and I knew it wasn’t going to end pretty. Castiel was shaking like a leaf and one of the men took off his jacket and draped it over his back.

In no time, the woman was right in front of me, her anger radiating toward me.

“What made you think you could put your hands on my fiancée?” she shouted. “Look at me, you filth! What did you think you were doing?” she was furious and I backed away, not wanting to be hit.

“Naomi, stop! It was an accident,” Castiel said as he stepped in between me and the woman, clearly trying to protect me, and I couldn’t help but be confused. 

How was he going to explain that?

Hearing those words, the woman focused her attention on Castiel. “An accident?” Naomi wondered, and he nodded confidently, wrapping the jacket tighter around his body.

“It was… Stupid really,” Castiel chuckled dryly. “I was leaning over and I slipped,” he said simply, his gaze locking with mine, a silent plea in his eyes.

I knew he wanted me to go with what he was about to tell and I toned down my expression, hoping it was completely neutral.

“I was leaning way over, to see the…” he cut off for a moment, trying to remind himself of the word, or trying to come up with a good excuse. I didn’t know. “Ah... Propellers!” Castiel let out, almost triumphantly. “And I slipped and I would have gone overboard... And Mr. Winchester here saved me and he almost went over himself.” He was speaking so fast that his chest was heaving by the time he was finished, his eyes still on mine.

I barely nodded, wanting him to know I wouldn’t let his secret out.

“You wanted to see the propellers?” the woman snorted, shaking her head.

“Was that the way of it?” the man that cuffed me asked, pulling me away from him so that he could look at me.

Castiel’s face was full of fear and I knew it wouldn’t be in his, neither mine interest, to deny his version of events. Agreeing with what he said was the only reasonable idea.

“Uh huh. That was pretty much it,” I admitted, not missing the relief that washed over Castiel’s face.

“Well! The boy's a hero then,” one of the men said. “Good for you son, well done!” he stepped closer to me and patted me on the back.

I heard the man that cuffed me reaching to his pocket and he undid the handcuffs, shooting me a smile as he slipped them from my skin. 

“Let's get you in. You're freezing,” Naomi said to Castiel, getting him to his feet, and they began walking away.

“Ah... Perhaps a little something for the boy?” one of the officers said, and the woman turned around, surprised.

I didn’t expect anything, it would be wrong to want anything for saving another person’s life, but I was curious as to how she would approach that question, so I stayed. I reached for my jacket and put it on, then slid both my shoes on.

Then, she turned toward one of the men. “Oh, right. Bartholomew. A twenty should do it.”

Castiel turned around in an instant, obviously resentful. “Is that the going rate for saving the man you love?”

“Castiel is displeased,” the woman chuckled, slowly making her way toward me. “Mmm... What to do?” Every word was marked with a step in my direction. “I know,” Naomi announced, eyeing me as if I was a disgusting worm.

I could never stand people like her. People who thought that being wealthy meant being better than others. It made me sick, but I kept my composure unaffected.

“Perhaps you could join us for dinner tomorrow, to regale our group with your heroic tale?” There was no way I could miss sheer irony in her voice.

I looked at Castiel, locking my gaze with his again, and responded, “Sure. Count me in.”

A faint smile appeared on his face and he gave me a single nod, his eyes telling more than I could comprehend at that moment. Happiness, gratitude, relief; it was all there, in a single look.

“Good. It’s settled then.” She turned around and walked to Castiel, taking his hand in an almost possessive manner.

They all began walking away and when the man that seemed to be called Bartholomew passed me, I asked, “Can I bum a cigarette?”

He stopped and smoothly drew a silver cigarette case from his jacket, then snapped it open. He extended his hand toward mine and I took a cigarette, then another, which I popped behind my ear for later. He lit my cigarette afterward and I sucked in some smoke, savouring it, then let it all out.

“You'll want to tie those,” he said and I looked down to my shoes. “Interesting that the young man slipped so mighty all of a sudden and you still had time to take off your jacket and shoes,” he remarked, his gaze piercing into mine, but I stayed unaffected, waiting for him to walk away.

And walk away he did, but I knew it wasn’t good that he had picked up on that. 


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tags/Warnings: mentions of past rape/non-con, Cas' POV

It was clear Naomi was annoyed that she had to leave the dinner because of me, but she walked me to our suite, which surprised me. I was convinced she would tell me to go there alone, since I knew where it was, but she did the opposite. Her arm was looped through mine the whole way there and she walked slowly, not rushing me, nor saying anything about what happened.

Maybe she wasn’t as bad as I thought? Maybe I would be able to change her, somehow?

After telling me I should get ready for bed she got out of our suite, leaving me with nothing but my thoughts.

His name was Dean Winchester.

The name of the angel that saved me was Dean Winchester.

He was even more beautiful from up close than when I saw him earlier that day, when I was on the promenade. I couldn’t get him out of my head, even though I knew I should. I was engaged, after all, and there was no chance for anything happening between the two of us. Even if I weren’t engaged, there would probably be no chance either. There was no way of knowing if Dean Winchester had seen me in a different way than just as a troubled man crying his eyes out. The world wouldn’t approve, no one would.

It was a lost cause from the beginning.

But those apple green eyes, those perfect, sincere eyes that held so much compassion and love in them would surely haunt me forever. They would haunt me even more after tomorrow’s dinner on which he was supposed to show up.

What would I do? How could I keep my feelings at bay and not let anyone know how I really felt? Could I do it? This had never been an issue for me since my future with Naomi was announced--I’d closed off my heart best I could, believing my future set in stone.

I shrugged off the clothes I had on and left them on a chair, folded neatly. I didn’t want to give Hannah even more work, I bet she had enough things to do considering how demanding Naomi and Amara were. They made her run around constantly, wanting her to satisfy their wants and needs in a blink of an eye. I felt sorry for her, I bet she would be treated better by other families, but wouldn’t leave as she feared Amara would not give her a good reference out of spite.

I opened my drawer, looking for my pyjamas. Finding them, I put them on. The soft material felt heavenly against my skin, and I let out a sigh, turning around to prepare myself to sleep. However, as my gaze fell onto the bed  I couldn’t help but shudder, my memory providing me with all that had happened between Naomi and me earlier. It all came back like an avalanche, crushing me with the momentum; her gentle but vicious touch, the salty taste of my tears, all the sounds she had been making. It made my insides turn in disgust and I closed my eyes for a brief moment, trying to compose myself.

Shaking my head, I got out of the room and plopped onto one of the loveseats in the living room. I set my gaze upon one of the paintings with water lilies, trying to focus on the colors and imagery instead of thinking about her.

It seemed like the painting was alive, all the colors vibrant and fresh. I swore they were moving, even if I knew it wasn’t true. How I wished I could be floating all over the world, whenever I wanted, with no obligations that weren’t even mine. How could all the responsibility for my father’s mistakes and debt be passed onto me? It was anything but fair.

Looking at the painting brought peace to me after some time and I headed back to my room, deciding to sit in front of the small round mirror there. Running my hand through my hair, I sighed, and looked at my reflection.

There was no one to pretend for anymore, I could be myself, even if it was for only a little while. I dropped my fake smile eyes no longer sparkling with pretend joy. I looked sad, tired, miserable, and disappointed, because that’s how I felt.

I didn’t know if I should feel thankful that Dean Winchester saved my life or not. Was it really worth it to keep fighting? Was it a good idea to get back to this nightmare and keep suffering? My life was a long march to the gallows, I could see where it was going to end, why delay it?

My musings were stopped by the sound of door being opened, followed by, “I’m back, Castiel.”

I put on my less-depressed demeanor and leaned back in the chair, picking on the sleeves of my pyjama top. Then Naomi entered my room. I saw Naomi getting closer to me as I glanced into the mirror. Surprisingly, her expression was nothing but nice and gentle, and I didn’t know if I should be relaxed or even more afraid because of that.

She locked her gaze with mine in the mirror and began getting closer to me. “I know you've been melancholy, and I don't pretend to know why,” Naomi said as she stood by my right side.

From behind her back, she handed me a large black velvet jewel case and I took it, my expression unfazed and cautious.

“I intended to save this until the engagement next week. But I thought tonight, perhaps a reminder of my feelings for you…” She put her hand on my right shoulder and I suppressed a flinch, forcing a polite smile onto my face.

Opening the box slowly, I couldn’t help but be in awe of its contents. It was a necklace; a dark blue stone was embedded in silver and hung on a silver chain that was attached to another chain, linking two silver wings. There were also three smaller stones, one hanging under the biggest one, and the two placed in between the chain holding the big and small stone and every wing.

It was gorgeous, a piece of jewellery suitable for anyone, to be honest. Not completely feminine, but not masculine either.

“My God… Naomi. These are-” I started and stopped. The necklace was one of the most exquisite things I’d ever seen.

She smiled. “Diamonds. Yes they are. 50 carats, and the other three are 15 carats each.”

Naomi took the necklace from the box and laid it around my neck, it was incredibly heavy against my skin. Seconds passed, and the novelty wore off. It didn’t feel like a necklace anymore, but rather like a collar. Something that would show other people I belonged to her, that I was her property.

“It was once worn by Louis the Sixteenth. They call it La Grâce des Anges, the-” Naomi started.

I breathed out, finishing her sentence, “The Grace Of The Angels.” I ran my fingers over the cold and smooth wings that enveloped my throat. “Naomi, it’s magnificent,” I admitted.

She put her hand on my shoulders and looked at the mirror, undoubtedly admiring the necklace. As I followed suit, I noticed the stones matched the color of my eyes. There was more life in those diamonds than in my orbs. How was that possible?

“It's for royalty. And we are royalty, my angel.” Naomi smiled softly, lightly caressing my neck and the necklace. For the first time in a long while, her touch wasn’t meant to hurt, harm or bruise, it was nothing but a gentle slide of her skin against my own.

I had a feeling that she wanted to fool me with this momentary change, but I kept my guard up, not letting her know how I really felt. It was wiser to do that, at least for now.

“I see,” I responded calmly, taking in our reflection.

It hurt to look at us, because I’d be the happiest man in the world if Naomi had a different personality. Why couldn’t we be happy? Even if the marriage was arranged, I’d have a chance at a normal life if she wasn’t who she was.

“There's nothing I couldn't give you. There's nothing I'd deny you if you wouldn’t deny me,” she whispered, running her fingers over my arm. “Open your heart to me, Castiel,” she added, her voice sweet, but I knew there was cruelty lurking beneath.

Naomi was just trying to hide it, in order to manipulate me. I guess she thought it would be the only solution, to try to make me believe she loved me and cared for me. Did she think I was stupid? I bet she wouldn’t even care if she found out I killed myself, jumping from the ship and into the ocean. She’d only lose a name.

And I couldn’t help but think that those stones were a perfect resemblance of Naomi’s heart. Beautiful from the outside, but cold and empty on the inside.     

* * *

                                                       

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The picture at the end of the post is the picture the necklace was inspired on, it's beautiful, isn't it?  
> Big thanks to [@justanothersaltandburn](http://justanothersaltandburn.tumblr.com/) for finding this beauty for me :)


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tags/Warnings: Dean's POV

I was sitting at our deck with Benny, enjoying how sun warmed our bodies with its rays. I couldn’t get Castiel out of my head.

That gorgeous face was in front of my eyes all the time, making it impossible for me to fall asleep. I wanted... I had to know why he had wanted to do that, but I didn’t know if I would have a chance, even though we were supposed to meet for the dinner later.

Castiel didn’t seem like all the other people travelling in first class. He was different to his upper class fellows, and I think that difference was what made him consider such a terrible idea. He didn’t feel like he fitted in, was my guess.

Hanging onto the wrong side of those rails and looking out over the ocean had shown that he was far from being happy. Even though I knew we didn’t have a chance, I briefly thought I would want to be the one that would make him happy, that I could make his life better. I wanted to be that person for him, but we were from two completely different worlds. It would never work.

Castiel would be at the dinner later and I would see him, for however short a time, I would make it the best of times. That was the least I could do.

I had my sketchbook with me on the deck, and scribbled here and there a bit, but I couldn’t get inspired by anything around me. My mind kept going back to those azure eyes and I had to fight with myself not to start drawing them.

But, what would happen if I drew them? It’s not like he was going to see that anyway.

Pulling a Corte crayon out of my pants’ pocket, I opened the sketchbook and leaned back on the bench, setting it on my lap. I closed my eyes for a brief moment, letting my mind wander back to how they looked like. It didn’t take me long before I had all the details in front of me, memory ever sharp, and my hand acted before my mind could, sweeping gracefully across the page.

Then, it was all instinct, an artist’s instinct. I didn’t think, I just kept drawing, the image of Castiel’s eyes getting more and more clear with every passing stroke. Benny kept glancing at the page once in awhile, a smirk painted on his face, but I didn’t care about that. He understood, I knew he did. Benny knew everything about me and he was the closest thing I had to family after I’d left my hometown.

There was nothing, only me, the page, the charcoal, and his eyes. Those mesmerizing eyes that I would have no objection to drown in. Actually, if those eyes were the last thing I’d see before dying, I’d die happy.

“Can’t get him out of your head, cher?” Benny elbowed me and I rolled my eyes as I raised my gaze to look at him. He knew me too well, he could easily tell what I was thinking. It was rather annoying sometimes, but it could also come in handy once in awhile.

I didn’t respond, just got back to drawing again. I would always lose track of time if I was busy trying to move my inspirations onto the page so when Benny elbowed me again it seemed like only a few minutes passed, but it wasn’t true. When I turned my attention from the piece of paper to the surroundings, I noticed the sun shining stronger than it had been when we went onto the deck in the morning with Benny. It must’ve been way after noon.

“Seems like someone’s been thinking about you too.” He teased, looking at someone behind my back, and I turned around, freezing in spot once I saw Castiel.

He seemed shy, surrounded by people he didn’t feel comfortable around, and I raised from the bench, shutting the sketchbook abruptly and hiding the crayon into my pants’ pocket.

“Hello Dean,” Castiel said, stepping a bit closer. His cheeks were flushed and a smile was lighting up his face, the gentle wind making his hair fly in all the directions. He looked so free and careless, but his eyes indicated something vastly different.

“Hello again,” I greeted, feeling the corners of my lips twitch into a smile.

“Could I speak to you in private?” his voice was soft, washing over me like smooth waves on a beach during a hot summer’s day. I couldn’t help but get lost in his eyes, just like I thought I would.

Benny cleared his throat to pull me out of my daze and I said, “Uh, yes. Of course. After you,” then gestured to the part of the deck that was free of any people. I wanted us to have some space to talk freely and without anyone eavesdropping.

I followed Castiel in silence, even though he was heading toward the promenade deck that I knew I wouldn’t be welcomed on. I didn’t care. If he wanted me there, I belonged there, that was it.

I couldn’t help but wonder why did he want me to go with him, why did he want to talk to me. Was it about the dinner later? Was it about what happened the day before?

He stopped and checked if I was still walking after him and opened the gate to the promenade deck. Castiel entered the deck and waited for me to join him. Without hesitation, I followed him onto the promenade and shut the gate after me.

Castiel waited until I was right by his side, then began walking slowly, his gaze focused on the floor. People were staring at me like I was a bit of dirt accidentally smeared over their luxurious part of the ship, and I fought not to roll my eyes. How they could think they were better from others because of their wealth, I would never understand. I have met more sweet and kind hearted penniless beggars in my life than I have businessmen or lords.

Turning my attention back to Castiel, I could sense he was nervous, though, and that he didn’t know how to approach whatever it was he wanted to talk about. Even though I remembered clearly, I asked, “So, you got a name by the way?”

“Castiel. Castiel Novak,” he answered, but it sounded like he didn’t like what came out of his mouth. Was it possible that he hated his name? I found it beautiful and unique, just like he was.

“That's quite a name. I may have to get you to write it down.” I hoped that my light jest would bring back the smile on his face, but it seemed futile as he stared on out across the deck.

An awkward silence settled between us, but we kept walking. I was patient, waiting for Castiel to say what he wanted to say, I didn’t want him to feel uncomfortable and push the conversation without him wanting that.

After a moment or so, he began. “Mr. Winchester, I-”

“Dean,” I corrected, flashing Castiel a soft smile as his gaze turned towards me.

“Dean,” Castiel returned. My name sounded divine as it rolled from his tongue. “I feel like such an idiot. It took me all morning to get up the nerve to face you,” he admitted, his voice near to a whisper.

He was nervous to face me? I thought he was joking, but as I took in the way he looked it was obvious he was telling the truth.

“Well, here you are,” I said, trying to show him I would understand, no matter what.

“Here I am,” Castiel repeated, raising his head a bit.“I... I want to thank you for what you did. Not just for,” he cleared his throat, “for pulling me back. But for your discretion.

I bet most of the people from Castiel’s background wouldn’t even think of thanking anyone for anything. To me, it seemed like they thought everyone who wasn’t like them owed them something.

“You're welcome, Cas,” I assured him, feeling my heart beating faster as he blushed at the nickname.

“Look, I know what you must be thinking.” Castiel picked up his walking  pace, but it wasn’t difficult to match my pace with his again. “Poor little rich boy. What does he know about misery?”

“No. No.” I stopped abruptly, and that made him turn around so he could focus his attention on me. “That's not what I was thinking.” My fingers danced on the steel cable that we were standing under. “What I was thinking was what could have happened to hurt this man so much he thought he had no way out.”

My words seemed to shock Cas and he hesitated a moment or two before he responded. It was like he wasn’t sure what to say. “I don't... It wasn't just one thing. It was everything.” He began pacing back and forth nervously, avoiding my gaze. “It was them, it was their whole world. And I am trapped in it, like an insect in amber.”

I nodded my head slowly, adding softly, “I see,” but he didn’t seem to notice, just kept talking. I allowed him, he clearly needed to get it all out.  
  
“I just had to get away, just run and run and run... And then I was at the back rail and there was no more ship. Even the Titanic wasn't big enough to get away from them. And before I'd really thought about it, I was over the rail,” Castiel explained, his breathing ragged. He was speaking so fast I had trouble understanding what he was saying. “I was so furious. I wanted to show them. Make them be sorry!”

It was hard to hear those words spill from Castiel’s lips. I licked my lips and said, “Uh huh. They would have been sorry. ‘Cause you would’ve been dead.”

Castiel lowered his head at that, looking somewhat ashamed. “Oh God, I am such an utter fool.”

“That porcelain doll last night, is she one of them?” I wondered out loud and he slightly tilted his head a in confusion. I found it adorable.

“Doll?” It took him a second to realize what I’ve been asking about. “Oh, Naomi. She is,” he sighed.

“Is she your step-sister?” I asked, hope disappearing into jealousy, like I knew what his answer would be.

“Worse I'm afraid,” Castiel responded.

His words cut through me, which surprised me, and I had to will myself calm. “Wife?” I hazarded.

Castiel gave me a sour grin. “Almost. Fiancée.”

“Oh.”

Castiel raised his left hand up, and I spotted a big signet ring on his little finger. I had never seen such a well crafted and expensive ring of that sort; perhaps I was having heart palpitations at trying to calculate how many carats the gold was worth, the huge shield shaped bloodstone was probably worth a pretty penny too. Desperate for some way to ignore the revelation Cas had given me, I pointed at the ring. “Look at that thing! You would have gone straight to the bottom.”

Castiel laughed, and I followed suit, smiling widely.

One of the stewards passed us, his piercing stare directed toward me, without a doubt. Before I had a chance to come up with a snarky remark, Castiel cleared his throat, moving toward me in an almost protective manner, and the steward walked away, leaving us alone.

But I knew we couldn’t avoid the topic, and Cas clearly needed someone to confide in. “So you feel like you're stuck on a train you can't get off 'cause you're marrying this girl,” I summed up, adjusting my suspenders.

“Yes, exactly.” Castiel nodded.

“So don't marry her.” I shrugged, following Castiel’s steps.

His voice turned sad as he said, “If only it were that simple.”

“It is that simple,” I couldn’t help but say. Honestly, couldn’t he just run away and start over? Couldn’t he just say no to what was making him miserable? I had done that many times and I’ve never regretted it once. Were we really so different from each other that he couldn’t just shrug out of this life and step into a new one?

“Oh, Dean…” Castiel sounded even more broken than a moment before. “Please, don't judge me until you've seen my world.”

“Well, I guess I will tonight.”

A sad smile appeared on Castiel’s face, but then the silence settled upon us again and we walked for a time without saying anything.

People around us were talking, observing, maybe even laughing at the mismatched couple that we were, but I didn’t pay attention to them. Castiel had my sole focus.

As we were passing the deck chairs, he gestured to the sketchbook I still had in my right hand. “What's this?”

“Just some sketches.” I held the sketchbook close, but he grabbed it and took it from me.

“May I?” Castiel asked, his hands already lifting up the cover.

I nodded and he sat on one of the deck chairs, leaning back comfortably. I took a seat on a chair right next to him and smiled as he opened my sketchbook.

The first of the drawings was the girl with his father, all the others were old. I hadn’t had as much time to draw when I was travelling from Paris to Southampton, and, in addition, my muse hadn’t been eager to cooperate.

“Dean, these are quite good! Really, they are.” There was nothing other than pure awe in Cas’ voice and I couldn’t help but grin at those words.

“Thank you, but, well, they didn't think too much of them in Paris,” I admitted, shrugging, and he scrunched his forehead in confusion.

“They should have,” he said with confidence, getting back to looking at the sketches.

Unfortunately, some of the pages were loose and fell out, the wind taking some of them over the rail and into the ocean. I scrambled up from my seat and tried to gather as much as I could, but I ended up only grabbing two as the rest fell into the water.

“Oh no! Oh, I'm so sorry. Truly!” Castiel exclaimed and I looked back toward the deck chair he was sitting on, then stood up from the floor, holding two sketches in my right hand.

“Well, they didn't think too much of them in Paris,” I repeated. “I just seem to spew them out. Besides, they're not worth a damn anyway,” I threw over the rail the two sketches that I had caught, then walked back to Castiel. His mouth was agape, like he was shocked with what I had done, but I only shrugged.

“You're deranged!” Cas began laughing, looking happier than ever, and I joined him, enjoying the moment. Who knew how much time we had left? For all that I knew, I would never see him again after the dinner. “Well, well…” Cas added as he flipped through a few empty pages and stumbled upon the nudes.

I knew there were all types of drawings in there. Men, women, men with women, women with women, men with men. It wasn’t sexualized, though, none of it was. Just pure appreciation of human body and every human’s beauty that was hidden in all the differences and things that other people considered blemishes. I saw uniqueness in every person I had drawn and I always tried my hardest to capture it in the best way I could.

Castiel was a bit taken aback by what he found, but he kept flipping through pages anyway, seemingly eager to see more of what I drew. The more drawings he looked at, the more he blushed, which made him look even more beautiful. I smiled.

He cleared his throat to get my attention. “And these were drawn from life?”

“Yup. That's one of the great things about Paris. Lots of people willing to take their clothes off,” I explained, watching him closely.

He flipped another page and his gaze stopped at one drawing I was incredibly fond of. A man, I didn’t even remember his name, posing half in sunlight and half in shadow, the expression on his face unreadable. It was a challenge to draw him like that, however, because he had kept smiling all the time, careless and happy, no matter what.

I had met him in Paris, when I had been sitting on the grass and trying to draw the Eiffel Tower. After a few failed attempts, I’d crumpled up my pieces of paper and thrown them far away. It seemed like I was only able to draw people those days. Surprisingly, a man had sat next to me and, realising how frustrated I had been, offered to pose for me.

And it turned out to be more than one time offer. There were dozens of sketches featuring him or the parts of his body on those pages, and those were the ones I was most proud of. He had been something else. I couldn’t put my finger on it, but he had made me change my drawing style and helped me get out of my shell.

“You liked this man. You used him several times,” Castiel stated, raising his gaze to look at me, and I nodded.

“He had beautiful hands,” I admitted, trailing my fingers over one of the sketches he was looking at. The page felt smooth with some bits of roughness, just like that man’s skin had felt under mine as I had been showing him how to strike the pose I had wanted him to be in.

“I think you must have had a love affair with him,” he said, locking his gaze with mine, a smirk on his face.

That was an unexpected joke. Not many would use such innuendo, considering how the world viewed romantic or physical relationships other than those between a woman and a man. I was impressed and surprised. Maybe Castiel wasn’t what he seemed to be after all?

“No, no! Just with his hands.” I let out a chuckle and he got back to looking at the drawings again.

After flipping through a few more pages, Cas stumbled onto the sketch that I hoped he wouldn’t see, the almost-finished drawing of his eyes. He stopped at it, looking closer at the page and looked up, his expression puzzled.

“Is it.. Are these my eyes?” Castiel asked hesitantly, his voice near to a whisper.

After taking a deep breath, I answered. “Y-yeah. I mean, yes, these are yours. I’m sorry for not asking if I could draw you, I can-”

He interrupted me mid-sentence, “No need to apologize at all. They’re beautiful.”

I smiled. “Thank you.”

After that, he shut the notebook down. Then, he raised his gaze and locked it with mine, saying, “You have a gift, Dean,” his voice was serious as never before. “You do. You see people.”

“I see you,” I whispered, drinking in that blue depth that threatened to consume me whole and never let me go. I wouldn’t object, even if it cost me my life. I’d let him ravish me anyway.

“And?” he demanded, not averting his gaze.

“You wouldn't have jumped.”

* * *

“You know, my dream has always been to just chuck it all and become an artist... Living in a garret, poor but free!” Castiel explained, his voice laced with excitement, his eyes nearly sparkling with joy.

I chuckled, he looked so sweet and hopeful like this. “You wouldn't last two days. There's no hot water, and hardly ever any caviar.”

With fake anger, he said, “I hate caviar! And I'm tired of people dismissing my dreams with a chuckle and a pat on the head.”

Only then I realised what I had said and how tough it must’ve been for him to be forced to pursue the life he never wanted. “I'm sorry. Really... I am.” I meant it.

“Well, alright.” One look casted at Cas and I could say he wasn’t mad at me. “There's something in me, Dean. I feel it. I don't know what it is, whether I should be an artist, or, I don't know... A dancer?” his face lit up as he moved away from me and spotted something on the deck. “Or a moving picture actor!  
  
He gripped my hand and started running toward what he saw, making me go after him. His fingers were warm against mine and I found myself squeezing his hand before I knew what I was doing.

Was it foolish of me to do that? Probably, but what if that was the only chance I would get to do that?

Once I looked up, I saw what made Castiel so excited. There was a woman standing near the rails, posing for a man that stood behind the camera.

She looked sad, broken even, but when Castiel let go of my hand and posed theatrically next to her, making a funny face, she burst out laughing. He grabbed my hand again and pulled me into the picture, making me strike a ridiculous pose as well and, soon, the man was laughing as well.

We kept posing and smiling and laughing for what seemed like ages and I wasn’t exaggerating if I were to say that those moments were one of the best of my life.


	11. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tags/Warnings: Cas' POV

It felt unreal, like I was in some kind of a wicked dream that I would soon wake up from.

Spending time with Dean? It was magical and I had no idea we would understand each other so well. How could two people from completely different worlds be so alike? I never would come up with an explanation for this.

“So then what, Mr. Wandering Dean?” I queried, my gaze shifting from the soon-to-appear sunset to Dean, his face lit up with a wide smile.

“Well, then logging got to be too much like work, so I went down to Los Angeles to the pier in Santa Monica.” I could tell he had fond memories connected to that place, his expression dreamy. “That's a swell place, they even have a rollercoaster. I sketched portraits there for ten cents a piece.”

I thought I misheard the price. Drawing such wonderful masterpieces for ten cents each? It was like doing it for free, it seemed like nothing. I wasn’t even sure you could buy a bottle of milk for so little.

“A whole ten cents?” I parroted, quite surprised.

“Yeah. It was great money…” Dean sighed and I struggled to understand how could he think it was a lot of money. But, I guess, when people had little next to nothing every cent counted. “I could make a dollar a day, sometimes. But only in summer. When it got cold, I decided to go to Paris and see what the real artists were doing.”

Didn’t he consider himself a real artist? He definitely was one, he could see things that no other person saw and make them appear on the paper like reflections of the other person’s soul. He noticed the hidden beauty and secrets, having that skill alone showed he was a true artist.

“Why can't I be like you, Dean? Just head out for the horizon whenever I feel like it.” I wished I could just run away. Wished I could do whatever I wanted, be whoever I wanted, be with whomever I wanted. “Say we'll go there sometime, to that pier, even if we only ever just talk about it.”

I didn’t miss the smile on Dean’s face. “Alright, we're going. We'll drink cheap beer and go on the rollercoaster until we throw up.”

I laughed, imagining doing such normal things. 

Dean continued, “And we'll ride horses on the beach. Right in the surf.”

“I’ve never ridden horses,” I admitted. “Can you show me?” I suggested, feeling my cheeks heat up a little. Even if I knew it was just us playing pretend, it didn’t make the butterflies in my stomach go away.

“Sure. If you like,” he said without hesitation.

“I think I would.” I felt the corners of my lips twitch into a smile, and I averted my gaze from Dean, suddenly feeling a bit exposed. I couldn’t keep my mouth shut, I was over sharing. “And teach me to spit too. Like a man.”

It sounded ridiculous coming out of my mouth, but Dean didn’t even bat an eye. “They didn't teach you that in boarding school?”

I shook my head no.

Dean grinned. “Here, it's easy. Watch closely.”

He went on for some time without swallowing spit, then leaned backward, his hands on the wooden rail. As he moved closer to the rail he spat and it arced out to the water. It was quite impressive distance, really.

“Your turn.” Dean gestured me to get closer to the rail and I did so. I screwed my mouth, then leaned over the rails and spat, or rather tried to. 

It didn’t turn out very well.

“Nope, that was pitiful,” Dean chuckled, then began explaining. “Here, like this. You hawk it down.” Dean hawked it down, his gaze locked with mine as he was showing me what to do. “Then roll it on your tongue, up to the front, like this,” his voice was muffled a bit. “Then a big breath and plow!” He spat again, the distance the spit covered enormous. How was he doing that?

“You see the range on that thing?” Dean grinned at me.

I nodded absentmindedly. Then it was my turn again. I went through the steps, listening to all the advice Dean was giving me, and it payed off. It worked, which was both disgusting and satisfying.

“That was great!” Dean seemed ridiculously proud and I grinned at his words. However, when my gaze fell on people that were walking toward us that joy ceased almost immediately.

My mother and the Harvelles were getting closer with every passing second. I flashed Jo a polite smile and she smiled back, giving a nod to Ellen was next, then my expression returned to unfazed.

“Mother, may I introduce Dean Winchester,” I said, gesturing to Dean with my left hand.

She didn’t even look his way, something between loathing and disgust painted on her face. “Charmed, I'm sure.”

“Pleasure to meet you, Mrs. Novak,” Dean replied politely, even though he must’ve known how she viewed him. It wasn’t hard to see what she must’ve been thinking of him.

Amara didn’t say anything so I decided to introduce Dean to the Harvelles. “Ellen, Jo Harvelle, this is Dean Winchester.”

Dean took hands of both the ladies and planted soft kisses on the tops of their hands, a dashing smile on his face. Jo blushed under his gaze and I found it irritating. Why would I think so? Jo was a wonderful person, why was I annoyed by what she did? It didn’t make any sense. He… He wasn’t mine, I had no right to feel possessive over him. But I felt that way anyway.

“Wonderful to meet our friend’s savior,” Jo beamed, blush painting her cheeks. She was perfect. Slim, pale, joyous, and I thought Dean’s gaze would be locked with hers, that he would be admiring her beauty. Imagine my surprise when I saw him consuming me with his stare, making my blush yet again.

“Pleased to meet his friends.” Dean flashed Ellen a smile.

Ellen nodded and began, “Well, Dean, it sounds like you're a good man to have around in a sticky spot-” She didn’t have a chance to finish that one, however. The piercing sound of a bell being rung by a steward made us all jump, eliciting a squeak from Jo.

“Why do they insist on always announcing dinner like a damn cavalry charge?” Ellen breathed out and my mother shook her head. 

My mother had never respected the Harvelles, mainly because they never bothered with restraining their thoughts or using proper language around other people. They were polite and respectful, of course, but also honest and blunt. But that was what made them more real. They weren’t like dolls or puppets, trying to pander to everybody. No. They showed exactly who they were without the need to pretend to be someone else, and I admired them for that.

A part of me hoped I would be able to do that too someday. That I wouldn’t have to hide who I really was anymore.

Amara’s disapproving gaze made me snap out of those dreamy thoughts.

“Shall we go dress, mother?” I asked, turning on my feet as Amara nodded. “See you at dinner, Dean.” I added, looking at Dean over my shoulder as we began walking away from him and the Harvelles.


	12. Chapter 12

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tags/Warnings: Dean's POV

I watched Castiel go, not being able to tear my gaze away from him even when I could barely make out his silhouette from afar.

“Son, do you have the slightest comprehension of what you're doing?” Mrs. Harvelle asked, snapping my attention to her. I felt my cheeks heat up as her gaze pierced right through me.

“Not really,” I answered truthfully, shifting the weight of my body from one foot to the other and back again. I suddenly felt out of place without Castiel by my side, like a sheep among a pack of wolves.

“Well, you're about to go into the snakepit,” she admitted, and that did nothing to soothe my nerves. “I hope you're ready. What are you planning to wear?”

That question baffled me and, for a moment, I didn’t know what to say. I hadn’t thought about it and, as I eyed the clothes I was wearing in that moment (the only ones that I possessed, really), I realized I couldn’t show up later at the dinner wearing them.

I knew I looked puzzled, or even terrified when my gaze shifted back to Ellen.

She chuckled. “I figured.” Then she smiled softly at me, and to say that I was surprised by her reaction would be an understatement.

Why was she being so nice to me? What would she get out of this? Had Cas' mother or fiancée sent her to find out as much about me as she could, and find what really happened that night?

What was I supposed to do? I wondered if I should trust her or try to figure it out on my own.

“Seems like I’ll have to go in what I’m wearing now, I don’t see another choice,” I admitted after quite a long moment of silence.

Both Ellen and Jo shook their heads, then Jo began, “I think that won’t be necessary. Mr. Winchester, we might have a solution for this problem of yours.”

“Please, follow us if you may,” Ellen added and I nodded, then shadowed both ladies as they turned around and started walking toward the promenade deck, leading to the inside of the first class’ part of the ship.

Less than an hour later, I was dressed, except for the bowtie and the jacket. I had real trouble with tying the damn thing, and when Ellen realized that was the case, she stepped forward and began tying it the way it was supposed to be. Her nimble fingers worked efficiently, like she’d been tying them since she was born.

“Don't feel bad about it. My husband can’t tie one of these things, even after 20 years. There you go.” She smiled softly at me as my gaze locked with hers.

After a short conversation with her and her daughter I came to a conclusion that they were good people, completely different from Castiel’s family. They didn’t treat me as someone who was worse than them, even though they were from the other world, but they listened to me as I talked and I felt welcome in their company.

It made me think of Cas and how similiar to them he was. I couldn’t understand why his family wasn’t able to treat everyone with respect, without looking at other people’s wealth or social position.

All I knew was that it was an honour to meet the Harvelles and I was certain I wouldn’t be able to repay the favor. All of my belongings that I’d had throughout my whole life probably wouldn’t come close to the price of all the clothes that I was wearing in that exact moment.

They weren’t people, they were angels. I would have made a fool of myself for certain if I had appeared at the dinner in my usual clothes, and the Harvelles simply decided to help me, knowing very well I was just a poor fella. Even though I had nothing to give them. All I could do was say thank you. It was one of the nicest things someone had ever done for me.

Ellen looked to the bed and stepped closer to it, choosing one of the few jackets that was laying there. She handed it to me and I got inside the bathroom to put it on and see how I looked.

“I have to buy everything in three sizes 'cause I never know how much he's been eating while I'm away,” she joked and I nodded politely, shrugging on the jacket.

I felt uncomfortable in what I was wearing, because it was so alien compared to my everyday attire, but I had to admit that I looked like a rich boy from first class without a doubt. With the borrowed clothes, I would pass as one of them for certain, unless I opened my mouth. The only thing left to polish was the way I acted.

Smirking at the reflection of myself in the mirror, I turned a bit to one side, then the other, looking at myself from different angles.

“My, my, my…” Ellen entered the bathroom and whistled, making me laugh loudly. “You shine up like a new penny.”

* * *

 

After I was dressed, I waited for a bit with Ellen and Joanna, talking about my life before I got on the ship, who I was, what I’d done. They were both fascinated with the fact that I was an artist, and I couldn’t help but smile at their curiosity. It was so rare to talk to people that didn’t laugh off my passion.

Eventually, the time to head to dinner came, and they instructed me on where I should go in order to get to the dining room. They had yet to prepare themselves for the evening and I went out of their suite, both of them wishing me luck in my endeavors.

It wasn’t that hard, really, to figure out where it would all take place as all the people dressed like me were heading one way, and all I had to do was follow them.

When I entered one of the hallways I heard notes of what might have been Debussy coming from afar, the sound somehow making me nervous. I didn’t bother that much with worrying about what people thought of me, but I didn’t want to bring disgrace to Castiel, and that made me uneasy.

When I went around the corner, I spotted a big glassy door that was guarded by two stewards, dressed in their usual blue, black and white uniforms. As I got closer to them, they both bowed to me and opened the door without a second thought. I nodded my head curtly and entered the room, smirking as I thought that one of those stewards was ready to throw me out of the promenade deck earlier that day. It was amazing what a change of clothes could do.

As I looked around, my breath catch in my throat. Everything around looked splendid, and I knew it must’ve costed thousands to build this part of the ship. To say that it was luxury would be understating my surroundings.

Above me, there was an enormous glass dome, towering over everything and everyone under it. I nearly felt trapped under the majesty of that thing, the black finishing nearly reminiscent a bird cage. In the centre of the dome hung a chandelier, it looked like it was made of crystals, shining brightly in the dim afternoon light falling from the outside and through the glass.

The sweeping staircase I descended was covered with amaranth fabric, the handrail decorated with what looked like gold leaf, contrasting against the dark wood it was made of. I let my hand rest on it, admiring the smoothness of polished wood, and started walking down, my gaze falling over the men and women at the bottom of the stairs.

The smell of all the perfume and cologne mixed together almost knocked me off my feet. Flowery scents, musky scents, hard or delicate scents, it was all there. Women in their dresses seemed like colorful birds, an array of colors that I wasn’t sure I ever saw being put on one painting. Their hair was done in various ways, pinned up or braided somehow, sometimes hidden under a hat. Entire fortunes were worn around women’s necks: big necklaces on their necks, huge bracelets on their wrists, earrings hanging from their ears and almost to their shoulders. Diamonds and other precious stones were shining like the sun itself, set into gold or silver. Men were dressed in all black, their shoes shining enough to see your face in; elegant watches or rings on their hands and necks as well. They were smiling politely, but their eyes weren’t lighting up, weren’t sparkling.

From the outside, it might’ve looked like they were all having great time, but if you looked closer, it was obvious they were all either bored or annoyed with their company. I assume it must’ve been quite dull indeed to talk about nothing but wealth and money over and over again.

As I was passing all those people, gentlemen were greeting me like I was one of them, with full respect and dignity. Oh, how I wanted to admit that I wasn’t who they suspected me to be, if only to see their faces after hearing such an information.

After I reached the bottom of the stairs, I stopped and turned around, taking in the whole room. I froze on spot when I saw Naomi and Amara being led by their valet, Bartholomew.

They didn’t spare me a glance as they passed me when they were walking nearby. Naomi only gave me a flirtatious smile, which surprised me vastly, but I didn’t have long to analyse that gesture. Right behind Naomi, Amara, and Bartholomew was Castiel.

He was dressed in an all black tuxedo, pearl white shirt, and had a blue and white bowtie on. His hair wasn’t slicked, like mine, but left as a mess. That look definitely fit him, I had to say. I was stunned by how handsome he was, even more so as he kept walking toward me. Castiel’s gaze locked with mine and he kept walking down the stairs, his moves gracious, but a bit restrained, like he was trying to control himself from doing something against his will. It struck me that he didn’t look as relaxed as when he was only in my company. He didn’t fit in, neither did I, but what did it mean?

A smile settled on his face as he came to a stop in front of me, and I extended my hand forward, the other one behind me, like all those gentlemen were doing. Castiel took my hand in his and shook it gently, tilting his head and nodding at me. I gave him a curt nod as well, corners of my lips twitching into a smirk that lasted for a short while, but his hand lingered on mine for a bit.

Before anyone had the chance to notice, he withdrew his hand, blush painting his cheeks. He gestured for Naomi to come closer and said, “Naomi, surely you remember Mr. Winchester.”

Her mouth fell agape, but she quickly closed it. “Winchester! I didn’t recognize you,” she admitted. After a few moments of feeling her gaze on me—she was surely studying my attire—Naomi remarked, “Amazing. You could almost pass for a gentleman.”

I wanted nothing but to wipe that vicious smile off her face with a snarky remark, but there was no time for that and I would have ended up in the brig. Just in time, I spotted Ellen and Jo on the middle of the stairs, and I rushed to assist them in walking down. Castiel followed suit and we found ourselves standing in front of the dames, our heads raised proudly, our arms offered to the respectful ladies; mine to Jo, Castiel’s to Ellen.

Both Jo and Ellen were wearing beautiful, black dresses. Jo’s was finished off with quite a lot of lace and was showing more of her cleavage than Ellen’s dress did, which gave us a view of her pale, almost white skin. A silver necklace with a big, single black stone was resting on her chest, it looked heavy, but was certainly gorgeous. Ellen’s dress was a bit more modest, not as fitting as Jo’s, but she looked dashing in it nonetheless.

“Mr. Winchester, Mr. Novak,” Jo greeted us, giving Castiel and me a nod, and I couldn’t help smiling as I thought about how those generous women were one of the reasons I was there in the first place.

“Mrs. Harvelle, may I?” Castiel asked. Ellen stepped right next to Cas, looping her hand through his arm. Cas raised his eyebrows then, prompting me to do the same.

“Miss Harvelle, may I?” I repeated after him, shooting Jo a charming smile, and she hooked her glove-clad hand through my arm. Then we turned around and began walking down the stairs, side by side with Castiel and Ellen.

We were silent for a moment, just observing the surroundings. Mindless and meaningless chatter was flowing around us, its only purpose to fill the void that would appear without everyone talking.

“There’s nothing to it, is there, Dean?” Ellen spoke after some time and I turned my head right to look at her. Cas was watching me with curiosity, like he wanted to know what my answer would be.

“Yeah, you just dress like a pallbearer and keep your nose up,” I said without a second thought, forcing a polite smile as another gentleman greeted me. Castiel didn’t seem surprised with my answer in the slightest.

“Remember Dean, the only thing they respect is money, so just act like you've got a lot of it and you're in the club,” Jo added simply and I nodded.

It wouldn’t be that hard, right? They already accepted me as their own. Well, everyone but Naomi.

My breath hitched in my throat as Castiel leaned closer to me, his breath fanning over my ear, and whispered, pointing at a couple engaged in a conversation. “There's the Countess. And that's Azazel John, the richest man on the ship. His wife there, Meg, is my age and in a delicate condition. Quite the scandal among the society, but it doesn’t phase me at all.” I listened closely, knowing that no one would explain the social intricacies to me other than Castiel, and I knew that I needed all the knowledge to survive that one evening.

“And over there, that's Sir Arthur and Abaddon, Lady Sands-Ketch.” He gestured to another couple, the dame’s hair red as fire, the man’s stare cold as ice. “She designs naughty lingerie, among her many talents. Very popular with the royals.”

Who would’ve thought that the people from the first class weren’t always plain and boring?

The woman caught my gaze, the look mischievous, and I couldn’t help but smirk as she nodded at me. Then, Castiel gestured to another couple engaged in a conversation, the man’s arm around a petite redhead’s waist.

“And that's Lucifer Morningstar and his mistress, Madame Rowena. Mrs. Morningstar is at home with the children, of course.” That was unexpected. I didn’t know people didn’t try to hide their affairs, it would seem appropriate to do that. And, considering that man’s wife was staying at home and having to let him do whatever he wanted, having to let him humiliate her? I was sure their marriage wasn’t the one of the happier kind

We kept walking closer to the people gathered near the tables and Castiel led us all toward Azazel’s wife, she seemed to recognize him from afar.

Her piercing gaze landed on me as I caught up with his steps, but I waited for the introduction.

“Meg, I’d like you to meet Dean Winchester,” he said, gesturing to me, and I extended my right hand forward, letting the lady shake it.

“Good to meet you, Dean,” she greeted, but I wasn’t sure if she was telling the truth. She looked bored at best, but I assumed I would be bored if I was in any of those people’s situation as well. “Are you of the Boston Winchesters?” Meg wondered as she let go of my hand.

“No, the Lawrence Winchesters, actually.” It was the first thing that came to mind, but she didn’t seem fazed, only nodded and I assumed it was a respectable answer.

She excused herself afterward, her husband asking her to come closer to him, and we kept walking, following Naomi and the rest toward a huge table.

Castiel led Ellen to sit in one place and moved away the chair for her, then she sat and he went to sit himself. I followed suit with Joanna, then sat opposite to Castiel, who was seated between his mother and fiancée, and in between the Harvelles. I knew they’d be great company for the evening.

Other people began sitting down, Meg and her husband, Sir Arthur and Abaddon, one of the officers that I remembered were there that night I saved Castiel, and two men I didn’t know at all. Before I had the chance to look closer at them, Castiel’s mother cleared her throat and I turned around to look at her.

“Tell us of the accommodations in steerage, Mr. Winchester. I hear they're quite good on this ship,” Amara encouraged, but I knew she wanted to bring up who I really was, like she thought that I was ashamed of not being rich.

I felt the gaze of everyone at the table shift onto me, but I didn’t let anyone suspect I was uncomfortable or nervous. At least, I hoped I didn’t.

Holding her gaze still, I said, “The best I've seen, ma'am. Hardly any rats.”

I knew people didn’t know if they should laugh or not, but I guess my expression was enough of an answer, and silence lingered. I didn’t miss the amusement on Castiel’s face as I let my gaze slide from his mother to him, and back. Cas motioned for me to take a napkin off my plate and I shadowed his movements, pretending I didn’t feel awkward and out of place at all.

“Mr. Winchester is joining us from third class,” Naomi explained, her voice drawling the syllables a bit, like she wanted to underline how much of an inconvenience I was. “He was of some assistance to my fiancée last night.”

Some assistance? Well, I didn’t expect someone to describe the fact that I saved Castiel from killing himself as just some assistance, but I decided against replying. He had enough drama in his life already and I didn’t want to add even more.

Fortunately, a waiter approached me, and I hoped the topic of the conversation would shift to something else.

“How do you take your caviar, sir?” he asked politely and I smiled, struggling to find the proper way to address him.

Before I could answer, however, someone else did it for me. “Just a soupcon of lemon, it improves the flavor with champagne.” Naomi faked a smile, but I shook my head no, and turned my attention to the waiter again.

“No caviar for me, thanks,” I said and the waiter nodded, walking away afterward. Then, I turned around to look at Castiel’s fiancée and added. “Never did like it much.”

As I shifted my gaze to Cas, I saw him smile softly, his eyes sparkling. Another secret that we had together.

“And where exactly do you live, Mr. Winchester?” Castiel’s mother pressed, and I didn’t miss the venom that she laced her question with.

“Well, right now my address is the RMS Titanic. After that, I'm on God's good humor.” That seemed to shock both Naomi and Amara, but that fact didn’t bother me much. What was their business in it anyway, that they kept asking me such invasive questions?

Fortunately, the dining room began filling with waiters and they started serving salads, setting a small portion in front of every person sitting by the table. As I looked down to the plate and cutlery, I discovered there were a few forks, along with some knives and spoons. Dumbfounded, I didn’t know which one to begin with, but the Harvelles saved me from embarrassment yet again.

Ellen leaned to my side and said, her voice near to a whisper, “You begin with those that are the furthest on the outside and keep moving closer to the plate.”

“Thank you.” I grabbed the first fork, then followed with eating the salad after I saw some people had started eating as well. I could see the lettuce and tomatoes, along with some kind of cheese inside the bowl, however the rest of the ingredients remained a mystery. It was a bit dull for my liking, not spicy at all, but it could be worse.

After everyone finished eating, and the waiters took the dirty dishes from us, Amara spoke again, “You find that sort of rootless existence appealing, do you?”

I waited a bit before I answered, trying to come up with a good response. It didn’t take long before I said, “Well, it's a big world, and I want to see it all before I go. My father was always talking about going to see the ocean. He never went out of the town he was born in, and never did see it. You can't wait around, because you never know what hand you're going to get dealt next.” I saw some people nod at this part of the speech. “See, my mother died in a fire when I was little. As soon as I grew up, I got out of there, there was nothing holding me there. Since then, I’ve been on the road and I never regretted that decision. Something like that teaches you to take life as it comes at you. To make each day count.”

From the corner of my eye, I saw Ellen raise her glass in salute. “Well said, Dean,” she offered in toast.

“Here, here.” The officer raised his glass as well, a polite smile on his face.

My gaze stopped at Castiel and he raised his glass as well, his stare locked with mine. “To making it count,” he said simply and took a sip of champagne.

Everyone around followed suit, myself included, even Naomi. Only Amara didn’t seem happy with how the evening was progressing.

“How is it you have the means to travel, Mr. Winchester?” she insisted, her fingers dancing on the rim of the glass like a spider walking on the web, waiting to catch the fly in his trap.

“I work my way from place to place. Tramp steamers and such. I won my ticket on Titanic here in a lucky hand at poker.”

“Are you serious, Mr. Winchester?” Joanna asked, nearly in awe, and I nodded, smiling.

“Why wouldn’t I be? It was a very lucky hand,” I added, glancing at Castiel.

The officer sing-songed, “All life is a game of luck.”

I couldn’t agree more. Though sometimes I would ponder if there was some kind of a higher power in the world. Sometimes, I couldn’t help but think that some things were meant to happen. Was there the option of me not winning the ticket and not saving Castiel? No, that couldn’t be the truth. And if I was being truthful, I didn’t want to think about a world where Castiel had left those rails for the ocean.

“A real man makes his own luck,” Naomi proclaimed and no one dared to disagree. Even I decided to let it pass.

My gaze shifted to Cas again and I saw him squinting his eyes at a notebook that one of the men was writing in. “Mr. Shurley, what are you doing? I see you everywhere writing in this little book.” Without waiting for the answer, he grabbed the book and began reading. “Increase the number of screws in hat hooks from two to three. You build the biggest ship in the world and this preoccupies you?”

He only smiled sheepishly, cheeks a little red.

“He knows every rivet in her, don't you Chuck?” another man said, his thick Londoner accent laced through every word.

“All three million of them, Mr. MacLeod,” Mr. Shurley said dreamily, like he wasn’t talking about a ship, but something or someone else. Like his lover or his wife.

Mr. MacLeod chuckled. “His blood and soul are in the ship. She may be mine on paper, but in the eyes of God she belongs to Chuck Shurley.”

“Your ship is a wonder, Mr. Shurley. Truly,” Cas praised, smiling softly, his hand with the notebook extended toward the man.

“Thank you, Castiel,” Chuck replied, taking the notebook from Cas and giving him a slight nod as an appreciation of his words.

The song remained the same for the rest of the evening. Conversations centered mostly around the ship, wealth, or other topics I didn’t know anything about, so I kept quiet, once in awhile chatting with the Harvelles or Castiel. Fortunately, neither Naomi nor Amara bothered me anymore.

After dessert was served, a waiter arrived with cigars on his tray and I glanced in Castiel’s direction, curious as to what was happening next.

“Next, it’ll be brandies in the Smoking Room,” he explained in a low voice and I nodded, to show him that I heard him.

As if for a cue, Mr. MacLeod rose from his seat. “Well, join me for a brandy, gentlemen?”

“Now they retreat into a cloud of smoke and congratulate each other on being masters of the universe,” Castiel added and I had to stifle a laugh.

“Are you going to join us, Castiel? Mr. Winchester? You don’t want to stay with the women, do you?” the officer chuckled, as if this was an amusing joke.

Before I had the chance to answer, Castiel retorted, his voice radiating with boredom. “I’m afraid I’d rather go back to my suite.”

The man nodded, then turned his attention to me.

“No thanks. I'm heading back,” I said, taking a napkin from the table as an idea started to form in my mind. Fortunately, I had slipped a stick of charcoal into the pocket of my pants, and I took it out, scribbling a message on the napkin under the table, so nobody would see.

“Alright. It was good of you to come,” Naomi said as the men exited and I took it as my cue to leave.

 After folding the napkin, I said my goodbyes to the Harvelles, not eager at all to go. I probably wouldn’t see them ever again and that filled me with so much sadness I wasn’t sure how I’d deal with it later on.

Then, I got up and walked over to Castiel’s fiancée. Taking her gloved hand, I planted a kiss on it. “It was good of you to invite me,” I said after pulling away and something between a smile and a grimace passed over her face. I bet she couldn’t wait for me to leave.

“Dean, must you go?” Castiel whispered as I stepped closer to him.

“Time for my coach to turn back into a pumpkin,” I joked, and Cas smiled sadly.

I extended my right hand forward and he took it, giving it a firm shake. Before I pulled away, I opened my palm, leaving my note in between his fingers and he closed his fist immediately.

I shot him a smile and turned around, starting to walk toward the ornate door. And, as I was walking, I was hoping so badly that he would take up the offer that I made.

 


	13. Chapter 13

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tags/Warnings: smoking, drinking, dry humping, blow jobs

The touch of Dean’s hand still burnt like fire on mine, even when he was already far away. I felt the soft texture of the napkin sitting in between my fingers and I was eager to see what was in there, but I knew I couldn’t attract unwanted attention. 

I sat at the table for a little while longer, smiling politely and engaging in boring conversations, then I got up and excused myself to my suite. Fortunately, Naomi was the life and the soul of the party, so I didn’t have to worry about her going to our room and finding out I wasn’t there. She would stay until the end, I was certain, and that meant I was safe, no matter what.

After getting out of the dining room and into the empty hallway I took the napkin out of my pants’ pocket and unfolded it, slowing down my steps to read it.

_ Make it count. Meet me at the clock. _

I smiled at the rushed, but somehow neat handwriting, and put the note back inside my pocket. Then, I headed toward the clock situated on the big stairway, wondering what exactly Dean meant. I was lucky, because most of the people were still at the dinner, or smoking cigars, and I didn’t have to worry about stumbling into someone I knew who could tell Naomi what I was really doing, instead of getting rest like I had promised earlier.

When I reached the stairs, it wasn’t difficult to spot Dean right by the clock. He was looking at the majestic dial and the carvings around it. It was safe to assume he was admiring the figures of Honor and Glory carved in the material, I admit: they were beautiful.

I shamelessly stared at him for awhile; he looked truly astounding in a tuxedo. Eventually, the clock struck the hour, and I walked up the stairs, smiling as Dean turned around.

“You came,” he stated, a wide grin on his face, like he couldn’t believe that I took up his offer.

I couldn’t help but be surprised by his surprise. “Of course. Did you doubt that I would?”

Dean was quick to shake his head no. “No, not at all. I simply wasn’t sure if you would be able to sneak out of there, but I hoped you would try.”

That certainly made sense. “I see. But why did you want me to come?”

It seemed like Dean waited for me to ask that question, his face lighting up as he asked, “Want to go to a real party?”

Without a second thought, I replied, “I’d love that.” 

A sigh of relief escaped Dean’s lips. “Perfect. Well, in that case, let’s go.” He started to walk up the stairs, and I followed suit, walking right by his side.

I didn’t know what to expect, but I felt a strange sense of comfort with him being around, so I didn’t worry. I was sure people in third class would be a lot more welcoming to me than my family had been to Dean. I still felt embarrassed by how he was treated at the table, it wasn’t fair.

We saw no one else as we strolled. It seemed like there was no one but us on the ship, the night silent except for the ocean, the sound of the waves crashing into the ship resounding in the distance. Peaceful, like in our own slice of heaven.

Reaching the middle of the promenade deck I began, laying my hand on his shoulder, “Dean…”

He stopped immediately, then looked at me, worried. “What’s going on, everything alright?”

I sighed. “Yes and no. I’m truly sorry for my mother and Naomi, they shouldn’t have acted that way. I wish they could see past wealth and social position. You’re a wonderful person and they didn’t even give you a chance.”

Dean’s mouth fell agape at that confession, he certainly didn’t expect that. After a moment, he smiled and laid his hand on mine. “Cas, I don’t care about them at all and you shouldn’t apologize for something that’s not your fault. You’re the one I want to see me for who I truly am, not them.”

I was stunned by his words and had no idea how to respond. Instead, I entwined my fingers with his, afraid I was too forward, but doing it anyway. However, he squeezed my hand tightly, the warmth of his skin soothing, yet making my heart pick up its pace, thudding wildly in my chest.

I knew I wasn’t supposed to do it and that anyone on the deck could see us in that moment, but I couldn’t bring myself to care. It felt like I was a completely different person around him, and that both scared me and made me feel like I was free, and could do everything I wanted.

“Thank you for trusting me,” I whispered. It seemed the only fitting response.

“You were first, trusting me to pull you back. It’s only fair if I trust you too,” Dean admitted, a smile finding its way onto his face yet again. “But we should go, I still have to change from these clothes into mine.”

“Of course,” I agreed, reluctantly retracting my hand from his shoulder. “Lead the way.”

He shot me a charming smile, the one that made him seem like the sun itself, and we got back inside. It looked like we were heading toward one of the first class suites and that surprised me a little. Did Dean meet someone else? Where were we going?

The mystery was solved when we entered one of the rooms. There was no one there, but Joanna, and to say that I was a bit surprised wouldn’t be enough of a description. She wasn’t wearing the evening dress anymore, instead had a simple and plain normal day dress on, but she looked beautiful nonetheless.

“Jo?” I queried and they both turned their attention to me, big smiles on their faces.

“One and only, Castiel,” she replied, then said to Dean, “Your clothes are in the bathroom, hope those were comfortable.”

“They were, thank you for letting me be a gentleman for one evening,” he joked and she laughed. “Cas, I’ll be back in no time, okay?”

I stepped closer to the bed and sat down. “Of course. Take your time.”

And with that, Dean disappeared into the other room, the sound of the door being closed by him echoing in the vast space. 

Immediately, Jo got up from the chair and walked over to the bed I was sitting on, then sat down right next to me. After a moment, she said, “And don’t worry, mom promised she will keep Naomi and Amara busy for as long as possible.”

I struggled to form the words, “Thank you. Thank you so much.”

“He’s the one, isn’t he? Not Naomi,” she whispered, a soft smile on her face.

It was appropriate to say I was shocked. “And that doesn’t bother you? That me, and him? That, us, together? That we could...” I stuttered out, feeling a blush creep up on my cheeks.

Jo shook her head. “Not at all. I’m guessing it should, but it doesn’t.” She took a deep breath. “I’ve never seen you as happy as with Dean. I don’t know if there’s a chance for you and him, but deciding to stay with Naomi will destroy you, Castiel. I know that.”

Sighing, I admitted, “I know that too. You know her, she’s a monster.” Jo scrunched her eyebrows in confusion. She seemed a bit surprised, but that wasn’t unusual. I’ve never talked about Naomi like that, and I didn’t know what was giving me the strength to say that to her in that moment. “But how can I break free from those chains? What it’s going to take to let go of them?”

“I don’t know, but what I know is that you’re going to be alright. Just follow your heart, it’s always been in the right place.” And before she had a chance to add anything else, the door opened, revealing Dean in his usual attire, his hair ruffled, his eyes vibrant and piercing through my soul.

He eyed us suspiciously, but I only smiled, and he walked closer to me and Joanna. “I’m ready, we can go.” He turned to Jo and, taking her hand in his and added, “And, again, thank you for what you did for me. For us.” 

“Anytime. We’re always ready to help you and Castiel, you only have to ask,” she promised. Dean planted a kiss on her hand, making her blush a bit, then let go.

“Thank you,” I repeated, hoping she would understand what I was thanking her for, and she nodded, gesturing to the door.

“I adore your company, but you should go. I’m not sure how much time you have and from what Dean told me there’s a lot for you both to do. So, go!” she ordered, laughing, and we walked out of the suite, right by each other’s sides.

We didn’t talk as we walked, but the silence wasn’t of the awkward kind. It felt comfortable to simply be with Dean and not be forced to talk about anything, to just enjoy each other’s company as we passed endless corridors. We took multiple turns and stairs while we were heading toward the so-called party.

And, oh my, what a party it turned out to be.

When we entered the room, I didn’t know where to look, there was so much happening around. People were dancing, drinking, singing and playing on instruments, they were all so joyous and full of energy. It seemed like a whole different world.

I stood there stunned, trying to wrap my mind around what was happening, and I didn’t miss the full grin on Dean’s face as he took in my shock. 

“My brother’s here!” Someone in the crowd shouted and Dean took me by the hand, then dragged me toward the source of the sound.

We ended up standing in front of a bulky tall man who pulled Dean into a hug as soon as he could. After wriggling out of his embrace, Dean gestured to me and said, “Benny, this is Cas. Cas, this is my best friend, Benny.”

Without a second thought, Benny sweeped me in for a tight hug and I hugged him back, smiling from ear to ear. He pulled away after a while, then said, “How good to finally meet you, Cas! He’s talking about you all the time, it’s annoying.” 

“Man, come on!” Dean scowled and Benny rolled his eyes dramatically, then took a glass of beer from the table and handed it to me.

I took it as a cue and downed the half of the glass, cringing a bit at the taste, but eventually embracing it. God, how I missed that, it was unbelievable. It was nothing but wine and champagne all over again in the first class, and beer was such a rare sight. Not to mention it was despised by both my mother and fiancée, called as the beverage of poor. 

Knowing that I was again overstepping all the ridiculous rules that ran my life, made me feel like I was free and able to do anything, if I only put my mind to it. Funny how one person could change me so much, it was both exciting and terrifying. Like strapping oneself to the back of a comet and rocketing across the heavens.

As I put the glass back on the table, both Dean and Benny gave me shocked looks.

“What? You think a man from the first class can’t handle his drink?” I teased and Dean shook his head no, taking the glass and downing the rest of the beer after me.

“Not at all, I knew you could take it,” he proceeded to say with a wink and I couldn’t help but feel a bit flattered.

Suddenly, someone bumped into me, and I would have fallen down, but Dean was there to catch me. His hands wrapped around my waist in an instant, like it wasn’t a conscious move, but pure instinct.

He was all I saw and felt, even though music was blaring around us, filling the whole room. Dean’s warmth and scent was intoxicating and I was afraid to look up, afraid that I wouldn’t be able to hold back if I were to look at his face.

But I did it anyway, slowly raising my head to look at Dean. He was smiling from ear to ear, his chest heaving a bit. I couldn’t bare to look away, his emerald eyes had a hypnotic hold over me. I got lost in him, in everything that was him. It was as if time had stopped as he moved closer, his mouth a mere inch or two away from mine. Dean gave me a concerned look, one that asked if this was okay, and I gave him a slight nod.then closed my eyes as I felt his lips brush against mine.

Nothing could have prepared me for that.

It was a simple press of lips, that seemed like coming home, but at the same time it was nearly too much. It felt overwhelming, making my mind hazy with feelings I couldn’t quite put my finger on. I regained my footing, drawing level with him, my hands going up to tangle in his hair. 

Being this close was unlike anything I had ever experienced up until that point. What I felt was something I had long given up on having the chance to feel. Dean wasn’t gentle, or rough, but he was slow and considerate of my my response, and I knew I could trust him. I knew I could get lost in him completely, that I didn’t have to keep my guard up anymore. And I’m sure Dean understood that too.

We pulled away after a while, completely out of breath, smiling and looking right into each other’s eyes. I’ve never felt better than in that exact moment, nothing mattered anymore but me and Dean.

Dean leaned forward, his breath fanning over my ear, and asked, “Do you want to dance with me?”

I nodded, not trusting my words anymore, and he dragged me to the dancefloor made of wooden tables linked together in some way. He jumped up first, then turned around and extended his hand toward mine, helping me up. Whatever self-consciousness I might have felt had slipped away with Dean’s kiss.

We stood right in front of each other, almost no space left in between his body and mine as he placed his hand on the small of my back and pulled me closer, so close that I could feel the warmth radiating off him.

The music changed and I admitted, “I don't know the steps.”

“Don’t worry about that. Just move with me. Don't think,” Dean ordered and I took a deep breath, nodding when I felt that I was ready to try.

He moved first, guiding me with his body and his hands. The pace was fast, but he started slow at first, not wanting to go overboard. It was awkward for some time, I kept bumping into Dean or stomping on his feet every so often, but eventually, we found a rhythm that worked for both of us.

I grinned at Dean when I was able to match his steps and he smiled back, catching me off guard by spinning me once, and then again, and again. My head was spinning too as we linked our hands, twirling around and laughing, everything around us blurry. 

“Wait, stop!” I told Dean and we stopped moving, his eyebrows raised at me in a silent question. I took off my jacket and loosened my bowtie, throwing them on the floor.

Dean couldn’t help but laugh as I ruffled my hair, then wiped my hands on my pants, trying to get rid of sweat that made it harder for me to keep holding onto Dean. Then, I got back to him and took his hands in mine, and we started dancing again, this time even faster, and I heard people clapping as we spun each other around.

I felt free and unstoppable. I hoped that night would never end. That it would be an eternal night filled solely with the music, euphoria, and Dean.

Eventually, we were so out of breath we had to take a break and we hopped off the dancefloor, moving toward one of the tables still being used as a table. At the table sat a tall man with long hair. He was smoking a cigarette and his eyes widened as he saw us both going toward him. Before I had the chance to ask who he was, the man rose from his seat and extended his hand toward me, saying, “You must be Castiel. Sam Winchester, but not related to Dean, just a coincidence.”

I shook it with a smile, then grabbed the cigarette from his mouth, sucking in some smoke. “Nice to meet you, Sam.” I let the smoke out, trying to blow out circles.

He let out a laugh, shaking his head in disapproval, and snatched the cigarette back from me. “I like you!” He pointed at me with his finger and I grinned.

“Who doesn’t like him, right?” Dean butted in, and I laid my hand on his shoulder, feeling his hand rest right on mine.

I turned my head to look at Dean and he winked at me, his cheeks flushed from all the dancing. He gestured to the dance floor again, and I nodded, letting him lead me there.

We danced and drank and laughed for what seemed like hours. Eventually, when I was too tired we said our goodbyes to Benny, Sam, and the rest of the company. Then, we got out of the room where the party was still going and sat on a bench in one of the storage rooms that we stumbled upon, locking the door afterward.

“That was the most fun I’ve ever had,” I admitted, smiling, and he grinned at me as well.

“I’m glad. I was hoping you’d like that,” Dean added and I nodded, suddenly aware of the fact that we were absolutely and utterly alone.

Taking a deep breath, I whispered, “I did. I loved everything about it.” 

Dean smiled coyly and turned on the bench, so that he was facing me. “What did you love most about it?”

I pretended to think about the answer for a minute and turned a bit to him as well, saying, “Dancing.”

“And why is that?” he insisted, his eyebrows raised in a silent question. I could tell he expected a different answer.

I blushed as I thought of all the reasons. “You were…” I trailed off, trying to come up with the most fitting expression. “You were everywhere. So close to me, and I wasn’t able to see or feel anything, but you. Only you.”

Without saying a word, Dean cupped my chin, his fingers soft and warm against my skin. I relaxed into his touch, feeling like everything had finally fallen into place. I let out a slow breath, enjoying that we were together. I didn’t want it to end.

“Is it close enough? Or would you like me to be closer?” Dean asked, his voice somehow a bit lower and more gruff than usual.

“Closer, please,” I breathed out and he obliged immediately, his lips crashing into mine. The kiss took my breath away.

It was nothing like the first one, a lot more rough and desperate, but I didn’t mind that at all. But it still wasn’t enough, so I climbed onto Dean’s lap without breaking the kiss, his teeth nipping on my bottom lip.

I groaned as I felt Dean’s cock harden. Though a part of me had trouble believing I could have that effect on someone. Starting to move my hips was what instinct told me to do. I never thought that grinding against someone could feel so perfect, but it did. The sweet pressure of pressing down against Dean felt heavenly.

We settled on that, just moving back and forth and kissing. Dean’s tongue exploring my mouth in the most wonderful ways, making me feel things I never thought would be possible. It seemed like my whole body was on fire, nerve endings tingling from too much stimuli.

I’ve never been able to take what I wanted or do what I wanted with other people, but that time, I could do anything. I mattered. What I wanted was important and it wouldn’t be swept under the rug.

Before I had time to voice that, however, Dean picked me up from his lap and set me on the bench back again, then knelt in front of me, licking his lips.

“What are you doing?” I asked breathlessly, out of sheer curiosity. Why couldn’t we keep going, why did he stop?

Instead of answering, he asked, “Do you trust me?”

I nodded immediately and he laid his hands on my thighs, his gaze locked with mine to make sure I was on board with what he was doing. Then, Dean undid the button of my pants and hooked his fingers in the hem, sliding them a bit down my legs and I raised from the bench to help him. He did the same thing with my underwear, my cock springing free right on front of him.

I blushed, a bit embarrassed with how obvious my arousal was, but he only smiled and wrapped his hand around my manhood, a gasp leaving my lips at how good that felt. But that wasn’t the end of it, his fist began moving up and down, the sensation making my body tremble. 

Scrabbling for something to hold, I grabbed the bench with both of my hands, my fingers digging into the wood so hard I was sure that would hurt later. But I couldn’t bring myself to care.

And when I thought it couldn’t possibly get better, a meaningless string of sounds leaving my mouth every time Dean picked up his pace, he leaned forward and flicked his tongue over the tip, almost making me come right in that moment. However, I held on, and Dean opened his mouth, enveloping my length with it, then bobbing his head up and down slowly, and I groaned at all the warmth and wetness. It couldn’t feel more perfect.

I wasn’t used to those kinds of sensations at all and, before I knew what was happening, he brought me to the edge, my cock pulsing and filling his mouth with my release. Dean swallowed it all and let go of my cock, a huge smile on his face as he got up.

“That was…” I cut off, not sure how to describe what I was feeling.

“Good?” he suggested, but I shook my head no, rushing with an explanation as he seemed to get upset over that.

“No. A lot better than that,” I admitted, and Dean chuckled, blushing a bit.

Quickly, I dropped to my knees and repeated what he did, getting my mouth on his hard length in no time. He must’ve been close as I knew I wasn’t good at it, but still was able to make him moan and chant my name like a prayer under his breath. It felt incredible and it was much more enjoyable than I would have thought. He tasted good on my tongue. I sucked and licked and swallowed and it seemed to do the trick as he shouted, flooding my mouth with all he’d got.

I knew it changed everything, it was obvious, and I felt the panic arise in the depths of my mind. What was I supposed to do? I had to go back to Naomi, at least to tell her some of what was going on, but I was terrified at what she would do if she were to find out that I had deep feelings for Dean and he had feelings for me too.

What have I gotten myself into?


	14. Chapter 14

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tags/Warnings: Dean's POV

We were walking on the deck, talking about everything we could think of, desperately trying to prolong that evening. Neither of us wanted it to end, but we were slowly getting closer to the first class entrance and I knew we had only minutes left together. Even though it was cold outside, my fingers numb, we kept on walking, our shoulders bumping into the other one’s because of how close we were.

Castiel seemed slightly off after we had gotten dressed earlier and went outside, but I suspected that was because he’s never done anything remotely sexual. Or maybe it was all too fast? Or he’d never been with another man before? But there was nothing I could do about that now, just wait and see.

I hoped that I hadn’t ruined anything.

After a moment of silence, Cas closed his eyes and began humming a song. Without paying much attention to me, he started swaying to the rhythm that only he knew. I thought it was kind of sweet as I watched him.

He looked so relaxed and at peace, all of the tension disappeared from his body in a blink of an eye. Cas accidentally bumped into me slightly as he was moving, a blush crept up on his cheeks when he opened his eyes and looked at me.

They were reflecting all the stars above us, shining brighter than all the diamonds I had seen at the dinner earlier. They were beyond beautiful, and I wasn’t able to stop looking at them, at him. What did I do to deserve being in his presence? I couldn’t comprehend how lucky I was. Who knew what a hand at poker could do?

Castiel cleared his throat and, pointed at the sky. “Isn't it magnificent? So grand and endless.” Then he walked over to the rails and leaned on them, his gaze set on the ocean, that looked almost black under the night sky. “They're such small people, Dean… They think they're giants on the earth, but they're not even dust in God's eye.” I walked closer to Cas, breathing in the fresh and salty air. “They live inside this tiny champagne bubble and someday the bubble's going to burst.”

I leaned on the rails by his side, setting my hand right next to his. Our hands were only brushing against each other, but it seemed like so much more. Such small contact, but overwhelming at the same time. “You're not one of them. There's been a mistake,” I retorted, smiling softly at Cas as he turned his head a bit to look at me.

“A mistake?” he asked, dumbfounded.

I nodded, trying to maintain a serious expression on my face. “Uh huh. You got mailed to the wrong address.” 

“I did, didn't I?” Castiel exclaimed, laughing, and I couldn’t help but laugh as well.

We stood there some more, finding comfort and joy in simply being together. It was such a soothing experience, to observe the almost-still ocean and hear the waves crashing onto the ship among nothing, but silence. Our memories were the only thing no one would be able to take away from us, even if standing there was supposed to be the end of it.

“Look! A shooting star.” Castiel pointed to the sky suddenly and I raised my head high, my gaze falling onto the shooting star that disappeared in the blink of an eye.

I breathed out. “My father used to say that whenever you saw one, it  was a soul going to heaven.”

“I like that,” Castiel admitted, his eyes shining with enthusiasm. “Aren't we supposed to wish on it?” 

He was so close to me yet again that I was tempted to move even closer, to pull him in for a kiss that would likely be our last. But, for some reason, that didn’t seem like the right thing to do, so I remained as I was, haunted with dreams and hopes for what could never have really been.

“I think we are. What would you wish for?” I asked and Castiel lowered his gaze, then stepped away after a moment.

Smiling sadly, he admitted, “Something I can't have.” Before I had the chance to say anything, Castiel said, “Goodnight, Dean. And thank you.” Then, he rushed to the first class entrance and got inside, not looking back as the door banged shut.

“Cas!” I shouted, but it was too late. 

He was back in his world, in a world that held no place for a person like me.


	15. Chapter 15

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tags/Warnings: verbal abuse, physical abuse, Cas' POV

The night with Dean kept running through my mind like one of those moving pictures. I didn’t know what to do.

I knew I shouldn’t had rushed away from Dean the night before, but that had been all too much. I needed to figure out a way to tell Naomi we were over. No matter how terrible of a person she was, I didn’t want to keep lying to her. I wanted to be honest, but the thought alone of confessing what I was hiding was making my nerves go off the rails.

When I woke up, I was alone in our rooms. She must’ve either not gotten back from the party or she left before I opened my eyes. After getting dressed, with a bit of help from Hannah, I walked over to the promenade deck and sat down to wait for breakfast.

As I was waiting, Naomi entered the deck, looking nearly furious. If she was that angry, I didn’t want to risk her taking it out on me, so I kept being silent as the food was brought and we ate.

The tension was palpable at our table, but I didn’t say anything, waiting for the right moment to speak.

Hannah came in again and poured us both coffee, then left after gracing me with a shy smile. She was wonderful, such a kind and nice soul.

“I had hoped you would come to me last night,” Naomi said eventually, and I raised my gaze from the plate, only to find fury on her face.

“I was tired,” I responded truthfully. It seemed that she was back in the suite before me, after all.

Her expression was downright terrifying as she retorted. “Yes. Your exertions below decks were no doubt exhausting.”

There was no hiding the fear and shock after she said that. Naomi must’ve had someone observe where I was and what I was doing. I swallowed the lump in my throat at the thought of someone being able to see what I did with Dean last night. I hope the only part she knew of was dancing at the party. “I see you had that undertaker of a manservant follow me.”

“You will never behave like that again! Do you understand?” she stood up, hovering over me, and I felt anger boil inside my veins, making me snap at her, which I have never done.

“I'm not someone than you can command! I am your fiancé-”

Before I had a chance to finish that one, she stood up from the chair and swiped everything that was on the table to the floor in rage, knocking over the table as well. The sound of porcelain crashing onto the desks cracked through me like a whip. Then, Naomi moved closer to me, her arms resting on both sides of me on the chair, trapping me in her hold. I couldn’t move, I couldn’t speak, I simply froze, and she slapped my cheek forcefully, the burn making me hiss.

“Yes! You are! And my husband!” she yelled, emphasizing each word with raising her voice more and more. “In practice, if not yet by law. So you will honor me, as a husband is required to honor his wife! I will not be made out a fool! Is this in any way unclear?”

All the thoughts about admitting that I wanted to leave her left my head, panic rising in my body, the feeling similar to going smack into the ground having fallen off a sleigh in snow. 

I slouched my shoulders, trying to hide in the chair, feeling myself shake under Naomi’s gaze. My sight fell on Hannah; she was standing in the doorway, frozen on spot. Naomi followed my gaze and let go of the chair, straightening up, and she got out of the room, stalking past Hannah.

The maid immediately ran over to me, checking if everything was alright with me, and I nodded weakly, feeling tears well up in my eyes. She smiled softly at me and crouched down, trying to gather broken pieces of the cups and plates on the tablecloth.

I rushed to help her, but she waved me off, saying that she didn’t want me to hurt my hands with sharp edges. Dismissing her worry, I started to help anyway, knowing that even if I were to cut myself with any of them it’d hurt less than being treated like that.

* * *

I didn’t know what to do.

I kept sitting in my room, fighting with my own desires and dreams. I wanted to run away, to go back to Dean, but still I felt obligated to stay with my mother. We didn’t have much money and, even though she was one of the reasons behind me being unhappy and miserable, along with Naomi’s doings, I cared deeply for her.

Who would’ve thought that, once I had a way out, I would be unwilling to leave?

Surprisingly, my mother asked me to help her get dressed, and I walked slowly to her room. She put her corset on and I stepped in behind her, starting to lace the strings properly.

“You are not to see that boy again, do you understand me Castiel? I forbid it!” Amara ordered, glancing at me in the mirror.

I only huffed and kept on tying the strings in a proper way. “Oh, stop it, Mother. You'll give yourself a nosebleed.”

She turned around in a blink of an eye, forcing the strings out of my hands, and that surely left marks on my fingers. “Castiel, this is not a game! Our situation is precarious. You know the money's gone!”

“Of course I know it's gone. You remind me every day!” I growled, crossing my arms in front of me.

“Your father left us nothing but a legacy of bad debts hidden by a good name. And that name is the only card we have to play,” Amara hissed. I turned her around, putting my knee on her back and grabbed the strings with both my hands to finish lacing the corset. “I don't understand you. It is a fine match with Naomi Milton, and it will ensure our survival.”

If only she knew all about Naomi, then she would likely have had a completely different opinion. Or maybe she already knew that, but didn’t care at all? “How can you put this on my shoulders?” I said, hurt audible in my voice.

Amara locked her gaze with mine in the mirror, her expression showing nothing but fear. “Do you want to see me working as a seamstress? Is that what you want? Do you want to see our fine things sold at an auction, our memories scattered to the winds?” Of course she cared only about that, my well-being didn’t matter to her at all. “My God, Castiel, how can you be so selfish?”

“It's so unfair,” I whispered, meaning every single word. Every part of my life was unfair, I wasn’t supposed to be here. I was meant to be somewhere else, with someone else.

“Of course it's unfair! And choices are never easy, I know all about that,” she added, but I doubted what she had said.

What did she know about the hard choices? I was the one forced to choose someone I could never love, someone that I knew would be miserable with.

What did she know? Nothing.


	16. Chapter 16

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tags/Warnings: Dean's POV

Sleep refused to find me while the events of the night replayed constantly in my mind. I was lying on the bunk, my eyes open, not much to see except for the darkness.

I couldn’t believe that Castiel would abandon me. He had to have a reason to do that, but what could that be? What was going on? Why had he run away like that?

There was only one way to find out and I hoped that he would at least explain to me what was going on.

Before Benny woke up, I snuck out of our room, confidently walking toward the first class part of the ship. I thought it would be easier to get in there while looking like I belonged there, so I held my head high, even though everyone’s gaze was set on me.

From all the whispering and silent conversations, I figured there was a mass for the first class. Hoping that Castiel would be there, I decided to check the dining room first, as that’s where it was supposed to be set.

I made it to the entry and pushed the door open, getting inside Castiel’s world. The hallways were empty, surprisingly, and that allowed me to get to the dining room without much problems. No one stopped me, but I knew that trouble was probably not far away. Still, Cas was worth the risk.

It wasn’t difficult to spot Castiel through the glassy door, his posture and dark hair standing out from the crowd, but before I had the chance to enter the room, the stewards stepped in my way.

Deciding to play nice, I said, “Good morning, gentlemen. I’d like to talk to Castiel Novak, could you let me in?”

“I’m certain your Castiel isn’t here, this isn’t a place for you,” one of them growled at me and I tried to push him out of the way, but they pushed me back from the door. If only Castiel turned around, he’d see me and, hopefully, talk to me or try to intervene.

“You don’t understand, I have to talk to him,” I repeated, desperately hoping that they’d get my message.

The other one grabbed me by my shoulder and tried to escort me from the entrance, but I didn’t move at all, determination getting the best of me.

“Look, you, you're not supposed to be in here,” he snapped.

I sighed. Were they even listening to me? “I was just here last night... Don't you remember?” I spotted Naomi’s servant walking toward us and, gesturing to him, I said, “He'll tell you.”

Bartholomew opened the door and walked out into the corridor, his gaze focused on me. “Mr. Novak and Mrs. Milton continue to be most appreciative of your assistance. They asked me to give you this in gratitude-” he cut off, holding out two twenty dollar bills.

Laugh or scream? I didn’t know which I should do, but I was shocked to say at least. Castiel must’ve had no idea I was there, he would never offer something like that, I knew it. It was all Naomi’s way of keeping me away from him and that was probably the reason why he ran away as well. He was afraid of her, but why? What could be so terrifying about that pretentious woman? It didn’t make any sense.

“I don't want money, I-” I began, but he didn’t let me finish what I wanted to say.

“And they wanted me to remind you that you hold a third class ticket and your presence here is no longer appropriate,” he pointed out, mischief sparkling in his eyes. This son of a bitch knew exactly what was going on.

I stepped closer to him, my head raised high in a challenge. “I just need to talk to Cas for a-”

Again, he cut me off, turning to the stewards. “Gentlemen, please make sure that Mr. Winchester gets back where he belongs.” He gave the twenties to them and added, “And that he stays there.”  
  
They saluted to Bartholomew. “Yes sir!” And, after he got back inside, they grabbed me by my shoulders, saying, “Come along you.”

In that instance, I had no choice, but to follow that order, but it didn’t mean that I gave up on him. I would have to come up with something else to try to get to Castiel.

* * *

 Benny and Sam called me insane once I found them and explained what I wanted to do. However, they still listened to all my ideas and predictions of what could be wrong with Cas, and I managed to convince them to at least help me look for him.

We walked onto the second deck and reached the gate that separated the first class deck from the other part of the ship. It was empty, fortunately. Seemed like people from the first class didn’t like sun or fresh air. The paleness of skin I had seen on many of them at the dinner the previous night, might suggest that Stoker had been right all along. No wonder Cas hated being in that world.

“He’s a god amongst mortal men, there's no denying. But he's in another world, cher, forget him. He's closed the door,” Benny spoke right after I set my hand on the rails and I turned around to look at him.

Sam sighed. “Benny’s right. You should listen to him, we don’t want you to get in trouble.”

“I won’t get in trouble, I promise. And it was them who closed the door, not him,” I replied and glanced around the deck again, finding that no one was around. “Ready? Go!”

Benny only shook his head in resign and put his hands together, crouching down. After taking a deep breath, I stepped on his hands and he boosted me up, making it possible for me to climb the rails and get onto the first class deck.

When I turned around, they were already walking away, as not to drag any unwanted attention to me. I began walking toward the wider part of the deck, closer to the first class entrance. I didn’t know where Castiel was, I could only count on luck. Luck had gotten me far after all.

I looked for something to make myself look more like one of them and, when I saw some man’s clothing laying on a deck chair, I didn’t hesitate to grab them. I put on the coat, hiding my attire under it, and put the hat on my head, hoping it would hide my face.

From a distance, I would pass as a gentleman, and that had to be enough until I found Castiel.


	17. Chapter 17

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tags/Warnings: self-esteem issues, Cas' POV

There was a crossroads before me and I wasn’t sure what I should do.

The night before, I thought I had finally laid my insecurities to rest, but dark thoughts still lingered in my mind, making me feel like I wasn’t worthy of anyone, and definitely not Dean. Who was I? An average looking person at best, with emotional baggage that I bet no one would want to carry. I was a burden.

Dean deserved someone better, I would only bring him trouble.

I hid in my room after breakfast. Thankfully my mother and Naomi were invited by Mr. Shurley for a walk around the ship. It seemed like he wanted to talk to them about Titanic and all that was connected to the process of building and designing the ship. And, even though I’d rather stay inside, alone, I eventually decided to head out with them, to try to occupy my mind with all that spilled from Mr. Shurley, because it was all rather interesting.

His story was astounding and the way he described the ship seemed unique to me. Chuck treated it like it had a soul, and that was unexpected: to see a man so passionate about an inanimate object.

But as I listened, I grew to be concerned about many aspects of the ship while we walked around, especially the safety of us passengers.

“Mr. Shurley, I did the sum in my head, and with the number of lifeboats times the capacity you mentioned... Forgive me, but it seems that there are not enough for everyone aboard,” I underlined, trying to be as polite as possible. I hoped that pointing that out wouldn’t be considered rude, because I was just genuinely curious as for the reason of why that was the case.

Fortunately, he only smiled back at that observation. “About half, actually. Castiel, you miss nothing, do you?” I shook my head no, and he reacted to that with a wide grin. “In fact, I put in these new davits, which could take an extra row of boats here.” Mr. Shurley gestured along the deck, to the space that was completely empty.

I couldn’t help but ask, “Then why aren’t they here?”

He sighed. “It was thought, by some, that the deck would look too cluttered. So I was over-ruled.”

Naomi slapped the side of the lifeboat with her hand. “Waste of deck space it is, on an unsinkable ship!”

I would rather not tempt fate, but I smiled anyway, hoping they would read it off as agreeing with their stance. I didn’t have the energy to argue with them about that.

Then, Mr. Shurley locked his gaze with mine again. “Sleep soundly, young Castiel. I have built you a good ship, strong and true. She's all the lifeboat you need.”

“Of course,” I replied without a second thought. Mr. Shurley’s confidence made me trust all the words he was saying.

We resumed walking, the three of them getting lost in conversation again, but I didn’t pay attention to it. Amara and Naomi were both obnoxious, annoying even, but there was nothing I was able to do to change that. Though it didn’t mean I had to listen.

Suddenly I felt someone tap me on my arm and I turned around to see Dean right beside me. I gasped; he would be in huge trouble if anyone were to notice he was there. He dragged me away from my party without letting me know what was going on and, after opening the first door he came across, pushed both of us inside, checking if they noticed my sudden departure.

“Dean, this is impossible! We can’t keep doing this” I cried and he grabbed me by my shoulders, his face inches away from mine.

He smiled. “Cas, you're no walk in the park. You're a spoiled little brat even, but under that you're strong. You’ve got pure heart, and you're the most amazingly astounding man I've ever known and-”

“Dean, I-”

Dean shook his head no, trying to silence me. “No, wait. Hear me out at least. You're too good for me. I know I have nothing to offer you, Cas, and I know that I don’t deserve you. But I'm involved now. You jump, I jump, remember? I can't turn away without knowing that you're going to be alright.”

He really cared about me and I couldn’t understand why he would think that he had nothing to offer. That was not true, he had everything to offer, all that I’ve never had or experienced, like real love and affection. He was everything I could ever want.

I tried to blink away tears that threatened to spill, but one or two ran down my cheeks and I wiped them away quickly, trying to compose myself. “You're making this very hard, but I'll be fine. Really,” I stuttered out, but I didn’t believe a word of it.

“I don't think so. They've got you in a glass jar like some butterfly, and you're going to die if you don't break out.”

I opened my mouth to say something more, but he kept going.

“Maybe not right away, 'cause you're strong. But sooner or later, the fire in you is going to die out.”

“It's not up to you to save me, Dean.” I knew it was an utter lie. If he didn’t save me the first time we wouldn’t be talking now, but I couldn’t bare to burden him with my problems. It wouldn’t be fair.

Surprisingly, he agreed with me. “You're right. Only you can do that.”

Even though I wanted to stay with him more than anything I’ve ever wanted in my life, I found myself pushing him away. “I have to get back, they'll find out I’m gone soon. Please, Dean, for both our sakes, leave me alone.”

Without thinking twice, I rushed out of the room, knowing that I wouldn’t be able to walk away if I were to turn around and look at him one last time.

Fortunately, neither Naomi nor Amara noticed that I been gone. They were so full of themselves, so self-absorbed, that I could disappear and they wouldn’t care at all. But I guessed that I should get used to that, considering my choice to stay with them.

* * *

I didn’t leave Naomi and Amara’s side for a moment, even, but my mind was elsewhere the whole day.

In my head, I kept going back to my conversations with Dean, to the moments we shared together, to everything that mattered. I reflected on my situation, and came to a conclusion that I couldn’t care less if anything happened to my mother or Naomi. That might sound cruel, and I kept brushing that revelation away, thinking that I must be a monster for even considering such a thing.

How could I care about them, if they only used me as they pleased? They only looked after me to show me off, like some prize that could be won. And Naomi only needed me so I could fulfill her twisted desires, or to be her personal punching bag, when she was having a bad day.

And Dean had made me realize that I might be worth a lot more than that.

Besides, what was the worst that could happen? Even death would be a blessing than if I were to keep living as chattel, and that’s why I decided I was done with it.

I was done pretending that I enjoyed the gatherings or that money and wealth were important to me at all. I was done with being abused and treated badly, with the whole charade that I had to go through every single day.

Nothing felt better than realizing that I could have a chance at happiness, everything paled in comparison to that single moment of realisation.

Before I had the chance to talk myself out of the decision I’d just made, I ran out of my suite, my feet carrying me to where my heart belonged.

To Dean.


	18. Chapter 18

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tags/Warnings: nudity, Dean's POV

I had done everything I could and it was all up to Castiel from the moment he had told me to go. I couldn’t do more, and even though we parted our ways, I was still hoping he would change his mind. Maybe I was naive? Perhaps I should’ve accepted the fact that it was all over. What was the point in holding onto false hope that would break my heart sooner or later?

I wished I was able to let go, but the truth was: I couldn’t.

He’d fallen into my life and drawn me in, like a moth to flame, and I couldn’t see my future without him, he had dazzled me so. I kept thinking about him, my heart aching because I knew he deserved better. He deserved someone to love him with all they had, to listen to what he had to say, to admire art and beauty in the world with him.

Hell, I wasn’t the best choice. I knew that.

I wasn’t rich; I didn’t have a place to go to, and I didn’t have anything to offer to Cas other than a promise that I would try my best to make him happy. I wished that could’ve been enough.

The wind ruffled my hair as I watched the sunset, leaning over the rails on the bow of the ship. It should’ve been an almost ethereal experience. It was mesmerizing, but the darkening sky, with its impossible number of pinks, didn’t stand a chance against Castiel. He was far more wonderful than all the colors displayed on the sky and the water.

The blue of his eyes had been luring me to jump in from the start, and I hadn’t hesitate. I’d let him consume me whole, and I would do it all again, because I wanted to be his. Even if I were to never see him again, I would never regret what we had shared the night before.

It wouldn’t be right to regret such an experience.

He had brought colors into my life, such shades of all of them that I never thought I would be able to see, and all other works of art paled in comparison. Cas had changed me and I knew I would never be the same.

Closing my eyes, I just listened to everything that was around me. Water crashing against the ship; faint sounds of conversations being carried from the other part of the deck, and the wind blowing. What I didn’t expect was to hear hesitant steps approaching closer and closer.

I didn’t want to have too much hope, but I wanted it to be him. I never wanted anything more in my life than for it to be him.

I took a deep breath and turned around, my eyes still closed. After waiting for a moment, I opened them. My heart stuttered in my chest. I was definitely the luckiest man in the world. Maybe there was God somewhere after all?

Black disheveled hair, azure eyes sparkling in the light of the dusk, cheeks pink from the breeze, wide smile.

“Hello, Dean,” Cas greeted, walking closer to me. “I changed my mind.”

I was too stunned to say a single word. I didn’t dare move, speak, or breathe. I was afraid it was just a joke or that I was so caught up in him that I was dreaming. But, fortunately, it started to sink in that this was real.

“Benny said you might be up-”

I cut Cas off, and grinned like an idiot, “Sssh. Come here.”

Extending my hand toward Cas, an idea formed in my mind. He took my hand, entwining our fingers together. I pulled him closer, putting my hand on his waist, his body pressed tightly against mine.

Castiel’s gaze locked with mine; it was obvious he didn’t know what to expect.

“Close your eyes,” I whispered and Cas obliged immediately. The amount of trust this man had for me was overwhelming.

Slowly, I turned him to the rail, and guided him closer toward it with my body. I was right behind him, and I let go of his waist, knowing I wouldn’t let him fall. His hold on my right hand was strong, and I took his left hand in my other hand too, raising them up, until we stood with our arms outstretched on each side.

I let go of Castiel’s hands and rested my hands on his waist. His arms looked like wings.I leaned forward, my lips barely grazing over his ear, making Cas shudder a bit. “Okay. Open them.”

He did as I said, eyes going wide as he opened them.

“I’m flying!” he exclaimed, and I chuckled. His face was a picture of pure joy. The view was amazing indeed, and it seemed like we were soaring above the waves, free of all confinements that bound us to our lives.

Castiel started humming the same melody as the day before, and he closed his eyes, simply enjoying the moment. It was only us, the ocean, and Titanic. We didn’t need anything else.

He leaned back a bit, pressing against me, and I rested my head on his shoulder, breathing in the salty air and him, letting myself relax. I let go of his waist, my fingers trailing up his sides, then I extended my hands as well, intertwining our fingers as I touched his.

It felt different than all the touches we’d shared before. Different, because I knew it wouldn’t be over. Different, because I knew he was as madly in love with me as I was with him. Different, because I knew we had a chance.

Moving slowly, I brought our hands closer to our bodies, and Castiel turned his head a bit to the side, his gaze finding mine, his lips parted just the slightest bit. I leaned forward, and he tipped towards me as well, our lips finding each other with ease. I didn’t care what others would think if they saw us; our love couldn’t be wrong, no matter what they said. And if anyone had a problem, they could try taking it up with me, and if words didn’t shut them up? I always had my fists.

I pulled him even closer, his lean and muscular body like a beautiful statue. His chapped lips brushed gently against mine, hesitantly at first, then with much more passion. He tasted like champagne and coffee, a mix of strong and sweet, he was a paradox, full of opposites that somehow existed together. He was truly something else: delicate but strong, caring but unbreakable.

What a wonderful man.

Cas sighed happily, opening his mouth, and I pulled away, not missing a desperate whine that spilled from his lips as I did so.

“What now?” I asked, truly curious.

He scrunched his eyebrows, then his eyes lit up with excitement. “I have an idea, let’s go.”

“Where to?” I took a huge step back, and he followed me, his hand still holding mine.

“That depends. Do you have your sketchbook with you?” Castiel surprised me with that question. What would we need my sketchbook for?

Walking over to the bench nearby, I picked it up and showed Cas that I had it. “I do, why?”

He let out a sigh of relief, then pulled me toward the deck, and we started walking toward the first class entrance. I let him guide me, trusting him with all my heart. And even if we were to get in trouble for being together? It would be all worth it, I’d do anything for him.

“I’d like you to draw me, if you want,” he said eventually, his cheeks turning pink.

Briefly stunned to silence, it took me a moment to remember that I could speak. “Of course,” I finally agreed.

Doubt seized me. I wasn’t worthy of trying to capture his beauty. I wasn’t even worthy of comprehending his grace with my eyes, how could he want me to draw him?

* * *

Once we got to his suite, I didn’t know where to look, it was all too much.

I had thought that the rooms the Harvelles were staying in was luxurious, but this suite was much more than that. Expensive carpets laid out on the floor, with crystal chandeliers sparkling and reflecting the light onto dark wooden walls.

The furniture looked like it costed thousands as well, all gold and silver leaf, with polished hardwood. The cushions were so soft that they felt like the feathers that filled them. There were no blemishes, everything was perfect; a fortune in money and time had crafted these rooms..

Castiel noticed I felt intimidated by our surroundings; I wasn’t hiding my discomfort. He shot me a smile, not a flirtatious or a shy one, but one that was supposed to remind me that he didn’t care about all of that at all. Wealth didn’t matter to him, and that small smile was enough to remind me.

I walked over to a marble table that was set in front of one of the chairs, and set my sketchbook and charcoals on it. I ran my fingers over the smooth stone, surprised by how cool it was.

“Will this light do? Don't artists need good light?” Cas asked, positioning one of the lamps in a different way than it was standing before. I smiled at his concern.

“That’s true, I’m not used to workin’ in such horrible conditions, cher,” I declared, trying to mimic Benny’s accent. That made Cas laugh hard, his eyes crinkling up in mirth. His laugh was like heaven’s chorus.

Looking around, my gaze landed on one of the paintings that was hung in the room, and I walked over to it. “Hey, that’s Monet!”

Cas stepped closer to the painting as well, admiring it with me. “Monet indeed. It’s mesmerizing, isn’t it?”

“It is,” I admitted, trailing my fingers over the paint, feeling the bumps on the canvas, wondering how the artist put them there; in which direction he was moving the brush, what did he have in mind when he was painting. I wished I could get the answers to all those questions, I was so curious about the work of other artists. “And the use of color? There aren’t many things in the world that are more beautiful than his work.”

“There really aren’t. But I’m looking at one now,” Castiel whispered and I turned my head to look at him, noticing that his eyes were set on me.

“I am too.” I smiled, and he lowered his gaze, blushing.

Castiel opened the door to one room, walking to the safe that was there. He began working on the lock, trying out different combinations, and I couldn’t help but wonder what he wanted to take out of there.

He groaned, trying another combination. “Naomi insists on dragging this thing everywhere.”

“Should I be expecting her anytime soon?” I asked, wanting to make sure we would have time.

“Not for a long while,” Castiel responded, smiling when the safe door swung open. He glanced over his shoulder, meeting my eyes and grinned, then looked back to the safe. He took a box out and closed the door.

He got up and opened the box, showing me a beautiful necklace, sparkling in the dim light. Castiel took it out of the box and handed it to me, its weight was surprising.

“What are these? Sapphires?” There were four blue stones on this one. The biggest one was embedded in silver leaves, looking a bit like a picture frame, and hanging on a piece of chain attached to the main chain, which would loop around the wearer’s neck. A smaller stone hung right under the biggest one. The other two were on both sides of the middle of the chain, silver wings right behind them and stretching out for the most of the necklace. It was exquisite.

“Diamonds. Very rare diamonds, and the necklace is called the Grace Of The Angels or La Grâce des Anges,” he explained, his voice sounding like from a dream when he repeated the name in French.

I couldn’t stop staring at the thing, running my fingers over the smooth stones and cold silver. “I see,” I stuttered.

Castiel’s hand rested on mine, and I raised my gaze to look at him.

He was smiling and, gesturing to the necklace. “I want you to draw me like your French man. Wearing this.” Cas took a deep breath, and added, “Wearing only this.”

Surprise rocked through me. I nodded, there was no way I could say no to such a request. Not that my voice would have cooperated.

“I’ll get ready then.” Castiel took the necklace out of my hand and walked over to another room, closing the door behind him.

Taking a deep breath, I turned around and went to the living room, wanting to occupy myself. I moved the divan a bit so that it’d be easier for me too see all of it (and all of Castiel) while sitting in the chair.

Then I opened my sketchbook and found an empty page, bending the cover a few times so it wouldn’t keep closing while I would be working on it. I sat on the chair opposite the divan and waited, far from ready for what was about to happen.

It would be the first time I would see all of him. Only him.

The door creaked open and when I looked up, I saw Cas in a black robe, his feet bare, his hair tousled a bit, his eyes sparkling.

“The last thing I need is another picture of me looking like a statue. As a paying customer, I expect to get what I want,” Castiel demanded, handing me a dime, and I chuckled. He was truly something else.

He stepped back and parted the robe, the necklace enveloping his neck and underlining his beauty even more. I didn’t think it would be possible for him to be even more stunning than he already was. The stones were a similar color to Cas' eyes and that made the blue in them pop even more. And the wings? They were only another proof of the fact he was truly an angel.

Slowly, he let the robe fall to the floor, revealing all of himself to me, without a hint of shame or shyness. Even though I knew he probably never worked physically, his body was shaped wonderfully, all lean muscles and slim posture. Cas walked to the divan and settled on it, but he was a bit too closed and hidden in himself, not completely open, like he was trying to hide.

“Tell me when it looks right to you,” he suggested, flashing me a shy smile.

I tried not paying attention to his marvelous body, because I was sure I wouldn’t be able to hold myself back. It seemed like something in him was calling me to get closer, to put my hands on his skin, to feel him whole. But I restrained myself, and took a deep breath, even though it physically ached not to be able to do more than watch.

An image appeared in my mind, of how I wanted to capture him on the paper, and I said, “Could you bend your left leg a little?” Cas followed the request immediately, settling into an almost perfect position. “Yes, just like that. And... And lower your head. Eyes to me.” His gaze locked with mine and I had to blink, not to get lost in the depth, more captivating than the ocean itself. “That's it.”

Taking him in, I reached for a Conte crayon, starting to slowly transfer the shape of his body onto the page. I spent too much time staring at a particular spot, my gaze travelling from his eyes and face, onto his chest and lower, that I dropped my crayon, and my cheeks heated up.

Castiel chuckled, a beautiful smile appearing on his face. “I believe you're blushing, Mr. Winchester. I can't imagine Monsieur Monet blushing.”

I smiled, shaking my head a bit. I wondered what would happen if the roles were reversed, I’m sure he’d act just like I was in that moment. “He does landscapes,” I retorted, picking up the crayon from the table.

I looked at Castiel again, this time letting my artist’s senses take over. Letting out a breath, I pushed my nerves aside, allowing my hands to do their job. Sure strokes, smooth and rough lines, sharp and round edges.

His body looked  like it was carved out of the most precious marble and I wouldn’t be lying if I were to say he looked like a statue. His hands seemed so perfect and proportionate, and the thought of them touching me anywhere made the hairs on my neck stand and my breath quicken. His legs were long, muscles prominent in the position he was in, and I imagined how they would feel wrapped around my waist, bringing me closer, trapping me in a hold.

Even though I was distracted, trying my best to focus and not let my mind wander, I was certain that no sketch of mine would be better than this one.

Maybe it was Castiel’s charm? Maybe it was the effect Castiel had on me? Or it could be both?

I couldn’t wait to find out.


	19. Chapter 19

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tags/Warnings: explicit sexual content, rimming, anal fingering, anal sex, Cas' POV

How could it feel like that?

It was like Dean wasn’t discovering my body, and trying to move it onto the paper, but my very soul. All my desires, flaws, weaknesses, thoughts and dreams, everything that I consisted of, the parts that I’d never shown to anyone. I felt vulnerable, but also as open as I had never been. It was both exciting and terrifying. His gaze kept skimming over me, with such focus it was admirable.

I was certain I wouldn’t have been so collected if I were in his position.

The necklace was cold like ice on my skin, but Dean’s intense gaze seared across my skin. His eyes locked with mine a few times and it was like someone had punched the breath out of my lungs.

I didn’t know how long it took; it might’ve been minutes, or hours. Time seemed to slow to a crawl when we were around each other.

Eventually, Dean got up from the chair and walked closer, sitting on the edge of the carpet. Putting the sketchbook on his lap, he began sketching again. Dean flashed me a smile as our gazes caught again; a blush rose to my cheeks, and my cock jumped slightly.

Dean seemed to notice that; the corners of his lips twitched into an even wider grin. I remained still, though it was difficult not to reach out and try to touch Dean, with him being so close.

A few more strokes and Dean finally got up from the floor, walking closer to me. He turned the sketchbook around and showed it to me, his fingertips black from the crayon.

“What do you think?”

The drawing, even though it was made with black lines, seemed vibrant and alive. I took in my body; it looked proportionate, the pose was gracious. It seemed like a completely different person, like I had transformed into someone else, someone who I didn’t recognize, but who felt weirdly familiar at the same time. It was stunning.

I cleared my throat. “It’s perfect. Even more than that, I’ve never seen something as beautiful as this drawing.” I ran the fingers over the page, gently tracing my fingertips over the lines that formed Dean’s masterpiece.

“You’re far more beautiful than what I managed to capture on the page, Castiel,” Dean whispered. I looked up at him and saw the honesty in his words.

Smiling nervously, I said, “I don’t know what to say.”

Dean slowly took the sketchbook from my hands and laid it on the table. I sat up and he joined me on the divan.

“You don’t have to say anything, Cas.” Dean took my hands in his, entwining our fingers together.

Taking a deep breath, I moved a bit closer to Dean. “Can I show you how much you mean to me?”

Dean laughed, then let go of my hands and cupped my chin. “We don’t need to do anything, Cas. I already know how much I mean to you and it scares me. It really does.”

“Believe me, it terrifies me too. But I wouldn’t have it any other way, Dean.” I felt tears well up in my eyes and I blinked them away, intent on saying everything I wanted to say first. “You saved me. I never thought someone would care about me as much as you do, it’s beyond my comprehension. You’re everything I never realized I needed.”

Dean’s smile was radiant. “Cas, I-” Dean cleared his throat. “I have nothing to offer to you. I’m nobody.”

“That’s not true.” I shook my head, and leaned forward. “You’ve got a heart of gold and that means more than all the diamonds I have on my neck. Naomi...” I trailed off, trying to come up with the least terrible way to say it. “Naomi hurt me in more ways than you can imagine. She used me like her toy, manipulated me, made me do things I didn’t want to do. But when I’m with you, I know I’ll be alright.”

“Loving you’s the least I can do. And she’ll never hurt you again. I won’t let her put a finger on you, I promise,” Dean vowed, moving closer so that our foreheads touched.

It seemed natural as our lips met, like a declaration deeper than any words could achieve. Dean’s lips were so soft, fitting against mine like they were made for it; like we were both meant to be since the beginning of the world. Dean’s hand moved to my hair, his fingers tangling in it, and just stayed there, pulling me even closer to him.

He ran his tongue across my bottom lip and I opened my mouth, letting him inside. I slid my hands down his sides, feeling lean muscles underneath the soft fabric of his shirt. Shivers ran down my spine as he kept exploring and licking and sucking.

I tugged my fingers in the waistband of his pants and untucked his shirt, pulling it up slowly, my fingertips grazing Dean’s skin. He pulled away for a moment, and pulled it over his head, revealing himself to me for the first time.

His hair was a bit ruffled, his lips full and pink, his skin scattered with freckles. I placed my hands on his chest, feeling his heart beating strong under my touch.

“You’re breathtaking,” I whispered, and Dean chuckled, putting his hands on my shoulders and slowly pinning me down to the divan.

Hovering over me, he said, “You’re a masterpiece.” I blushed, feeling a bit self-conscious, but he caught my gaze, and as much as I didn’t believe him, I knew he meant it. “You’re strong,” Dean added, letting his body lay on mine, his lips finding mine for a brief moment, then sliding down my jaw and lower.

It was an incredible contrast; the cold silver on my neck and Dean’s lips sliding nearby, so hot that the touch nearly burned. He worshipped my body, whispering how beautiful I was and how much he couldn’t believe I was his. I wanted to respond in the same way, but I realized I didn’t have to. The fact that Dean was there with me and what I said earlier was enough. I didn’t have to prove to him what I meant; he trusted me and knew I was telling the truth.

A gasp left my lips as Dean nipped at the side of my ribs; it seemed like a jolt of electricity ran through my body, making everything tingle and feel much more sensitive. I was overwhelmed in the best way, by how I felt and the fact that he felt the same way.

Dean ran his tongue down my chest, reaching my hip. Then he moved to the other side, planting kisses everywhere he could, the touch of his lips feather-light. My legs fell open for him without a second thought and without shame; I was amazed at how confident I felt when I was with him.

“Do you trust me?” Dean slid his fingers down my thighs, the touch making me shiver.

“You know I do. I don’t trust anyone as much as I trust you,” I breathed out.

“Good,” he whispered, his warm breath ghosting over my skin, and making my cock harden. Slowly, he wrapped his hand around my length, sliding it down to the base. At the same time, Dean leaned forward, and I felt his tongue underneath my cock, and moving lower, then lightly resting on my hole.

I didn’t know what he was planning to do, but as his tongue circled my rim, I stopped caring. It felt better than good and when he pushed the tip inside me, my body quivered in pleasure. His hand was still working on my length, moving up and down stimulated more than I had ever been, my hands gripped the cushion tightly, because I needed something to hold on to.

I probably would’ve felt embarrassed about someone doing that to me, but all rational thought had left my mind as his tongue eased its way inside a bit and started sliding in and out. I clenched around the intrusion, all the sensations going straight to my cock. Loud moans spilled from my mouth the more Dean licked and touched.

Dean’s tongue felt perfect, so warm and wet, I was a moaning mess. I knew nothing that could compare to that. My back arched from the divan as Dean went even deeper, his scruff scratching against my sensitive skin, a surprising contrast to the softness of his lips.

Dean picked up his pace, his wrist twisting expertly around my cock, his tongue making me writhe under his touch. I couldn’t control it, it was all too much.

I whined as he pulled away, but he crawled back on top of me, pulling me in for a kiss. “Uhm, Cas?” he asked, in between kisses.

“Yes?” I pulled away, an awkward smile on Dean’s face.

“Do you want to… I mean, are you ready for more?” he cleared his throat and I nodded, knowing I wanted that to happen.

He pulled himself up and I sat up as well, surprised. “What are you doing?”

“We could… It would be nice if you had oil or something slippery somewhere. I don’t want to hurt you,” Dean said, and it didn’t take me long to come up with something.

“My mother bought something that might be useful for us,” I explained, getting up from the divan to find the small jar she had somewhere in her bedroom.

Fortunately, it was standing right on the table, and I took it, then came back to the room. Dean used the moment I had been gone to get rid of the rest of his clothing, and I couldn’t help but eye him whole. Never would I get enough of looking at him; it seemed like every time I looked at him I was discovering him in a completely new way.

When he cleared his throat, I realized I must’ve been staring, and I felt my cheeks heat up. He walked closer to me and took the jar from my hand, his fingers lingering on mine for a brief moment.

It all happened so fast from there.

In one moment, we were just kissing, our bodies pressed so close, that it might’ve looked like we wanted to merge into one. A moment later, Dean walked me to the divan and I fell down onto it as the backs of my knees hit its edge, taking Dean down with me.

Before I knew what was going on, my legs were spread wide, and Dean stopped for a moment, his gaze finding mine.

“You ready?” he whispered, his thumbs rubbing soothing circles into the skin of my thighs.

I smiled, even though I was a bit nervous. I had never been with a man before, and I wasn’t sure what to expect, but I trusted Dean. I trusted him with all my heart, so the answer was simple. “Yes.”

Dean unscrewed the lid and scooped a generous amount of vaseline from the inside, slicking his fingers with it. Then he put the jar on the floor and skimmed his fingers over my thigh, making me shudder under his touch.

“Cas?” he asked and I looked at him, his eyes sparkling like stars on the dark sky. “Relax, I know what I’m doing.”

I didn’t say anything, just nodded with a smile. I closed my eyes and took a deep breath, trying to block out what I was thinking and allow myself to only feel. And how good it felt when Dean slid his finger in was beyond my comprehension; I had not expected it to feel like that.

He was going slow at first, letting me adjust to the unfamiliar feeling. When he noticed I had completely relaxed, Dean picked up his pace, smoothly wriggling his finger inside me, stretching me out a bit more with every passing motion.

My chest heaved, every drag of Dean’s finger eliciting sounds that I never knew I could make. My cock throbbed, aching for more stimulation. Dean fit in another finger, easily sliding them in and out, making me feel so full, yet I wanted more, I needed more.

Pleasure turned into delicious torture; he was going too slow for my liking, but at the same time, I wanted it to last forever. I didn’t want it to end.

My hips rose from the divan on their own accord and I started bucking on his fingers, loud moans spilling from my lips as he hit a spot that had me seeing stars. Dean angled his fingers so that they were brushing against that spot with every move I made, the feeling so intense my back arched from the divan.

I felt Dean’s hand on my stomach, pushing me down, and he added another finger inside me, cutting off any words of protest that I might’ve wanted to articulate. I was getting closer and closer to the brink of release, my muscles tensing as he kept driving his fingers in and out, and circling them.

When I thought I couldn’t take it anymore, my length pulsing and throbbing, so hard it nearly hurt, he slid his fingers out. My hole clenched around nothing.

“Dean, please,” I breathed out, not missing how flushed his cheeks were and how his cock was standing proud against his stomach as he slicked it up with vaseline. He moved closer, his skin brushing against mine as he positioned himself.

“You sure, Cas?”

I smiled, feeling tears well up in my eyes. “I’m sure. I want this.”

Without saying anything more—Dean rested his left hand on my thigh while his right held the base of his cock—he started slowly pushing in until he was completely sheathed inside me. His hands found mine, and our fingers entwined together. It couldn’t feel better—having him inside me—it was like we were one. He took his time, slowly stretching me on his cock, but that wasn’t enough for, and I wrapped my legs around his waist, driving him in deeper, pulling him closer.

Dean’s lips parted slightly as his hips became flush with my pelvis, his scruff tickled me. We stayed like that for a moment, just enjoying the feeling. My gaze found his; he looked so blissed out and beautiful, he was a living work of art.

“Dean, move,” I begged, squeezing his fingers tighter. “Please, you have to move.”

He obliged immediately, backing away a bit, then slid back inside, pushing my body with his movement. Dean didn’t wait between thrusts, just slammed back in, again, and again. A loud shout ripping from my throat as he kept his pace fast and rough.

It was all too much; the sheer force of his body as he kept driving in and out; the way he was filling me and making me feel whole the wonderful feeling that kept sparking every time he hit that spot within me, my mind going hazy from everything that was washing over me.

“Son of a bitch,” Dean breathed out, moving to hover over me, a wide smile on his face. “You feel so perfect,” he added, thrusting back in. “Squeezing me hard…” Another thrust. “Like you want me to stay here…” And the next one. “Forever.”

Even though it was fast and hard, there was a hint of gentleness in the way his gaze lingered over me and his fingers skimmed over my skin. There was much more to the act than just sex, and it was written across his face and in the touch of his fingers.

I didn’t know how I managed to take a breath and respond, “I do, oh, God.” I moaned as he drove back in, feeling my cock jerk and spurt a bit of pre-come onto my skin. “Dean, more. Please.”

It was pure need; to get ruined by that man, to want him to make me his in every way possible, to want him to fill me up and mark me. To show others that I was no one’s, but his. I had never felt that way before, but it wasn’t the first thing that was new for me.

I was becoming someone different because of Dean, and I had never thought I’d be brave enough to act upon that.

He didn’t hesitate to follow my request, pinning my hands to the divan, pistoning his hips forward and backward, the wooden floor creaking under our movements. It felt like every breath was being pushed out of my lungs with Dean’s every thrust, and I couldn’t do anything but hold on for dear life, a string of curses that would have me blushing in any other occasion leaving my mouth.

I kept chanting his name like a prayer, and he pulled me in for a kiss, teeth clashing, noses bumping. He was swallowing every sound I made, like he wanted them all for himself, like he didn’t think anyone was worthy of hearing them, and maybe he was right.

The weight of him on top of me should’ve been confining, but it was freeing, making me realize that this was it. We were meant to be, and there was no other destiny but each other. We had no choice but to be together, and I chose Dean willingly.

“Dean…” I gasped as he pulled away, and he caught my gaze, loud groan escaping his lips as I felt myself squeeze around him. “I love you,” I whispered, feeling that it would change everything, but also knowing that it shouldn’t be a secret anymore.

I didn’t want it to be a secret, especially that he already admitted it.

“I know,” Dean said, pulling me in for another kiss, vastly different from everything else happening. It was gentle and slow compared to Dean’s pace, but that didn’t make it any less passionate.

He didn’t slow down and I felt myself tremble, pleasure so intense coursing through me that it made me lightheaded. It only took a few more thrusts and it felt like a band inside me snapped, my cock spurting rope after rope of come onto Dean’s body. My orgasm was so strong, I felt like I was going to faint.

Dean’s rhythm stuttered a bit and he pistoned his hips once or twice, then I felt him pulse inside me, a warmth incomparable to anything else, filling me from the inside. I shivered as I watched him get lost in his own orgasmic bliss, and to know that I had taken a part in that was unbelievably satisfying.

We stayed like that for a while; just breathing and touching and existing in the moment, knowing that it couldn’t be more perfect. Dean collapsed onto me after that, and I pulled him closer, our legs tangling together.

His heart was beating soundly and loud enough that I could hear it, the sound making me feel at peace and relaxed. Nothing could ruin what was between us and we were both ready to do everything it would take to be together. I knew we would get through this, no matter what life chose to throw at us.

We were going to be alright, as long as we stayed together.

We would be just fine.

I was certain.


	20. Chapter 20

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tags/Warnings: Dean's POV

Sprawled out on the divan, we were too caught up in each other to even care about the outside world. Castiel’s body was warm against mine, his breath fanning over my neck, his fingers trailing the curve of my spine. I never wanted to let go of him. If I were able to choose, I’d stay like that forever.

It felt like we were in a dream. A really good dream.

Eventually, it got too cold for my liking, and we were sweaty and sticky too. So I got up from the divan, wanting to clean us both up, and groaned at the soreness of my muscles as I stretched my arms and back.

“Where are you going?” Castiel stretched his body as well, his hair stuck up in all the directions.

I smiled softly. “Let’s get cleaned up, alright?”

“Of course,” he answered, getting up, and took my hand in his, leading me to a bathroom. There were a few towels there and some water in a jug, even a big bath. It was definitely a lot more than just the sink in our cabin; I had never seen a bathroom so spacious.

Cas walked to the table, taking the jug and the soap, and poured the water into one of the metal bowls. He gestured for me to walk closer and started lathering himself up with the soap, flinching a bit at the coldness of the water. I followed suit, breathing in deeply the flowery smell of the soap as I took it from his hand and lathered myself up with it as well.

We washed ourselves in silence, sharing smiles and soft touches, taking turns with washing our backs. It felt comfortable and I leaned into his touch as his fingers skimmed over my skin. My fingers lingered over the necklace as I washed his back, the cold silver smooth under my touch.

After we were done, we got back to the main room and got dressed, relishing in the closeness and the bliss that we felt.

I moved the divan to its previous position, then picked my sketchbook up from the table. I opened it up to look at the drawing again. It was mesmerizing indeed, and I couldn’t help but be in awe of how beautiful Cas looked in it.

“You don’t need to look at the drawing, I’m right here,” Castiel whispered, coming closer to me, his hands wrapping around my waist as he rested his chin on my shoulder.

I felt his lips on my neck, warm and welcoming. “I know, but I wanted to look at it again.”

Taking the Corte crayon, I signed the drawing in the bottom left corner.

“Date it, Dean. I want to always remember this night.”

“Of course.” I wrote the date right under my signature, accidentally smudging it with my finger. April 14th 1912 would be a memorable day for us, for certain.

Cas took the drawing from me and walked to the other room. He opened the safe. He placed the drawing inside, then took off the necklace and put it in the box, hiding it right next to the sketchbook.

He looked so beautiful. I couldn’t tear my eyes away, my fingers were itching to touch him again, it nearly hurt not to be right next to him.

When he got back to the room I was in, I heard the lock clicking and he put his finger on his lips. I nodded and he took my hand in his, leading us out of this room and into another one.

We moved out of that room and entered the corridor, and I let go off his hand, noticing that there were people around. Cas smiled sadly; we both knew it was necessary, but that didn’t mean we had to like it. Then we saw Bartholomew rushing toward us and we picked up our pace, running down the corridor.

Weaving through people wasn’t easy and we bumped into some, apologizing and shooting awkward smiles at the gentlemen and dames we passed. It must’ve been a bit of a scandal, to see someone running like their life depended on it.

“Come on!” Cas rushed, leading me past the stairs, and we ended up in front of the elevators, running into one of them.

The operator seemed to be shocked that we were in such rush and I glanced toward the stairs, seeing that Bartholomew was running down already. We had to act fast.

“Take us down, quickly!” Cas exclaimed and the operator scrambled to comply.

I helped him close the steel gate and right as Naomi’s valet ran up, we already started to descend. I laughed at his expression, and when Cas showed him the middle finger, it made me laugh even more. Oh my, I bet Cas never dared to act like that before.

Bartholomew disappeared, shaking his head, and the operator looked stunned as he glanced at the gesture Cas made.

It seemed like we got rid of him, at least for a bit.

When we got out of the elevator, Cas led me toward another corridor and we ran for a bit, then stopped as we realized we must’ve gotten away.

There was no one around, only the sounds of our steps echoing in the vast space. We leaned against the wall and began laughing; the ridiculousness of the situation finally catching up to us. We were acting like two kids running around and trying to hide from their parents. What a night.

“Pretty tough for a valet, this fella,” I pointed out, a bit short of breath.

Castiel smirked. “He's an ex-detective. Naomi's father hired him to keep Naomi out of trouble. To make sure she always got back to the hotel in one piece after some crawl through the less reputable parts of town.”

“A dame was allowed to wander around and do whatever she wanted and you were forced to do what they told you?” I was quite shocked by what Castiel had said; it wasn’t a normal thing for a lady to do.

He shrugged, sighing. “Yes and yes. Naomi’s quite independent… very forceful. And I only recently found it in myself to stand up for what I wanted.”

“And we’re kinda doing the same she was doing then-” I cut off, noticing Bartholomew in a cross-corridor nearby. He noticed us both, immediately bolting in our direction. “Uh-oh, let’s go!”

I grabbed Castiel by the hand and dragged him with me over the corner and into a blind section of hallway. Fortunately, there was a door there, and when I grabbed the handle, it flung open. We were lucky sons of bitches.

Quickly, I latched the deadbolt on the door and looked around, trying to find a way out. The door shook with the force of someone hitting it; Bartholomew must’ve been trying to open it.

It was incredibly loud in the room and I figured we must’ve been close to a section of the ship’s engine, but we had nowhere to go, only down. I grinned at Cas, and pointed to the ladder, gesturing for him to go first. He got what I meant in a flash and climbed down the steps, I followed soon after.

We entered a whole another world down there. It was hot, like in the darkest pit of hell, and the noise was unbearable. The machines were working constantly, workers throwing coal into dark furnaces, smoke and orange glow surrounding everything.

I wanted to draw the scene around me, but for then, we had to run.

Castiel was grinning as we started speeding through the room together, avoiding the fire and shocking the workers with our presence.

“Carry on! Don't mind us!” I screamed, trying to outshout the noise as we were running, the steam of the fire making sweat trickle down my back and my breath quicken.

When we got to the end of the seemingly endless rows of furnaces, I spotted another door. This time it lead us to the exit and we climbed up floors and floors of stairs. Once at the top, we stood, leaning against the wall for a bit, trying to catch our breaths. We were crazy, but it was a good kind of crazy. The kind that made the life worth living.

“I can’t believe we did that!” Castiel exclaimed, that stupid handsome smile on his face distracting me yet again, and I stepped forward, pulling him in for a kiss, taking his breath away.

I pinned him to the wall, running my hands over his perfect body, and he moaned into my mouth, pulling me even closer. He turned me around, pushing me against the wall, taking charge, and I let him do whatever he wanted; he was a fast learner.

His tongue tangled with mine, the taste familiar and taunting; I couldn’t get enough. I wanted to do it for hours; just stay close to him and kiss his perfect lips, feeling shivers run down my spine and my heart race like it wanted to burst out of my chest.

Eventually, we pulled away, knowing that if we were to continue, we wouldn’t be able to stop. Cas was breathing heavily, a wide smile on his face.

“Let’s see what’s out there.” Castiel pointed to a door, and I nodded, following him as he pushed it open.

Cold air hit us with much force and we got out onto the deck, laughing like the two idiots we were. It was a shame I hadn’t kept that jacket with me, but at least Cas was covered with his and wouldn’t get cold. Our breaths formed little clouds as we walked over the deck, holding hands. Who cared if someone saw us? They wouldn’t matter after the cruise would be over anyway.

“When this ship docks, I'm getting off with you,” Cas said, turning around to look at me, and I grinned.

I didn’t know what to say. “This is crazy.”

“I know. It doesn't make any sense. That's why I trust it,” he responded without a doubt and I pulled him in for another kiss, wondering how the hell did I get so lucky.

It didn’t last long, however. We felt something hit the ship (or the ship hit something), and when we pulled away, we saw an iceberg towering over us and blocking out the sky, it was an incredible thing to witness. Such beauty and roughness; pure force of nature.

A few of the fragments broke off and crashed down onto the deck and we had to jump back to avoid getting hit by heavy chunks of ice. When the ship passed the iceberg, we hurried to the rail, leaning over and trying to see if everything was alright.

“Looks okay. I don't see anything,” I announced, letting out a sigh of relief. Seemed like lady luck didn’t leave us that night.

Castiel nodded, but he didn’t seem too convinced. “Could it have damaged the ship?” he asked, his voice laced with nerves.

After taking a deep breath, I said, “It didn't seem like much of a bump. I'm sure we're okay.”

Cas smiled at me, and took my hand in his again, and we walked down the deck. Even if didn’t seem like something was wrong, a part of me was suddenly convinced that nothing was going to end well. I tried shutting that part off, but when three men—the creators of the ship, and some officer—walked right past us, their faces serious and grim, I knew my gut was right, even if I didn’t want it to be.

“It's bad.” I ran my hand through my hair.

God, I couldn’t believe what was happening. But maybe it wasn’t that horrible and they just wanted to be sure that the ship was alright?

“We have to tell Mother and Naomi,” Cas stuttered out, pure fear painted across his face.

I chuckled, even though the situation wasn’t funny at all. “Now it's worse.”

He squeezed my hand, cupping my cheek with his other one. “Come with me, Dean. I jump, you jump... Right?”

I couldn’t say no to him. He was incredible; even though those people had hurt him in more ways than I could imagine, he still wanted to let them know they might be in danger. Cas cared about all and that might be one of the many reasons I loved him.

“Right.” I agreed and we got back inside the ship, hoping the situation wasn’t as bad as it seemed to be.


	21. Chapter 21

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tags/Warnings: minor violence, Cas' POV

I was terrified.

Even though Dean was by my side, I was afraid of what would happen when they would see us together. I knew Dean would protect me, no matter what, but I wasn’t certain that I was ready to face that just yet.

Not to mention that something was most probably incredibly wrong with the ship and it was just added to my stress.

Had I exhausted my happiness already? Would it be the end of everything?

As we crossed the foyer in first class and entered the corridor, the one leading to mine and Naomi’s suite, I saw Bartholomew heading toward us. I pulled Dean a bit closer to me, I wanted to show him that I had meant what I had said earlier.

As long as we were going to be together, it would work out somehow. I had to believe that and he had to as well.

“We've been looking for you sir,” Bartholomew said and I fought the urge to roll my eyes at him.

Instead of letting my anger and emotions get the better of me, I opted for staying calm and collected, at least for as long as it was possible. “I thought I made it clear I didn’t want to be found, Bartholomew.” My voice had never been laced with as much confidence as in that single moment and I knew it had exactly the effect I wanted on him.

Without saying a word, he bowed his head slightly and moved behind us, letting us walk in peace. When we reached the door, Dean grabbed the handle and gestured for me to go in first, but I shook my head no and we went in together.

It wasn’t difficult to notice that none of the people in the room expected Dean to be with me.

My mother closed her robe at her throat as she saw him; it seemed like she was afraid of him staring where he shouldn’t. Oh my, if she knew what we had been doing earlier on the same divan she was sitting on in that moment.

Naomi’s mouth went agape for a bit, then she pursed her lips together in a thin line. Her hands formed into fists, her knuckles going white. There was pure rage in her eyes; she must’ve seen the drawing.

There were also Masters at Arms in the room, and I had absolutely no clue what they could be doing there. Maybe it had something to do with the iceberg, some kind of a precaution, perhaps?

“Something serious has happened,” I announced, deciding that it was time to fill the silence.

Naomi raised her head a bit then walked a bit closer to me, but I stepped away from her, Dean moving in front of me in a protective stance.

She cleared her throat after seeing that she wouldn’t be able to take me anywhere without taking Dean too. “That's right. Two things dear to me have disappeared this evening. Now that one is back…” Naomi looked from me to Dean, I couldn’t help but be surprised. What else could have disappeared, except for me? “I have a pretty good idea where to find the other,” she added, her gaze fixed on Dean.

“What do you mean, Naomi?” I asked, but she didn’t answer to my question, just plainly ignored my existence. Well, that wasn’t new. Frankly, I had become quite used to it; it was better than having her attention on me all the time, but this time I wished it was different.

Gesturing to Dean, she ordered. “Search him.”

Before I had a chance to protest, I was pulled away from Dean by one of the man at arms and the other one started patting him down. What was happening? What did it mean?

“This is ridiculous,” Dean huffed, but stayed where he was, letting the man search him.

I tried to wriggle out of the iron grip the man had on me, but I was afraid it would be even worse if I were to intervene. “Naomi, you can't be serious! We're in the middle of an emergency and you-”

I cut off at the sight of the necklace being pulled out of Dean’s pocket. But, I hid it in the safe, how did it get in there?

The Master at Arms turned his attention to Naomi. “Is this it?”

As I looked at Dean, there was nothing but pure shock on his face. He didn’t know what was happening either, I knew it was a setup.

“That's it,” Naomi admitted and it wasn’t difficult to spot the smirk on her face. It was all her idea.

The Master at Arms nodded. “Alright then. Now don't make a fuss.” He moved behind Dean, starting to handcuff him.

“Cas, you know I didn’t do it! I would never!” Dean shouted, struggling against the handcuffs.

I struggled against the hold on me, my voice laced with venom as I looked at Naomi and bellowed, “He didn’t do it, it’s all your doing!”

She rolled her eyes at me. “Why would I do such thing? Of course he did. Easy enough for a professional.” I hoped Dean trusted me to get him out of this situation. I stopped struggling, deciding that I would try to break him out as fast as I could. It would be pointless if we were to be held captive together. “He memorized the combination when you opened the safe,” Naomi suggested.

I took a deep breath, my gaze catching Dean’s for a moment. I wanted to explain to him somehow that I knew. “I was with him the whole time.”

Naomi stepped closer to me and leaned forward, making me shudder in disgust as I felt her breath on my neck. “Maybe he did it while you were putting your clothes back on.”

“Like I said, I was with him the whole time,” I repeated, taking a step back from her.

Her eyes went wide as she realized what I had meant, but she didn’t say anything and I wasn’t sure if I should be grateful or not.

“They put it in my pocket!” Dean growled, making Naomi’s attention turn to him.

She went closer to him, her heels clicking against the floor with every measured step. “Are you accusing me of something, you filth?”

He raised his head high, challenging her. “No, because I already know it’s true. It’s simply stating a fact.”

The sound of her palm colliding with his cheek made me flinch and I had trouble staying where I was. But I knew I had to, I needed to be able sneak out and find Dean.

“Get him out of here, now!” Naomi ordered and the man nodded, starting to drag Dean out of the room. The other Master of Arms followed suit, helping with escorting Dean outside.

“Cas!” he choked out and I hung my head low, because I knew I wouldn’t be able to look him in the eyes, at least not now.

He would probably be disgusted with me, maybe he would even hate me? But I had no choice, it was the only way to save him, to save us both.

The sound of the door closing rang in the small space, but other than that, the silence was nearly deafening. I raised my head back up then and was met with Naomi standing right in front of me.

“I had better go dress,” my mother offered, and swiftly exited the room.

That’s how it always was. She would leave every time Naomi was in that kind of mood, leaving me vulnerable and alone, without a chance of getting saved from the abuse Naomi was making me go through.

It was barely a second after she left when Naomi aimed at me with her hand, but this time I caught her palm before she had a chance to hit me. I’d never done it before, but I was done being her punching bag.

She gritted her teeth, wiggling her hand out of my hold. “You little whore…”

I didn’t say a word, just stood proudly there, finally being certain she had no power over me.

Before she had the chance to do anything, there was a loud knock on the door. Someone pushed the door open immediately after they didn’t get an answer, and we were faced with one of the stewards.

“Sir, I've been told to ask you to please put on your lifebelt, and come up to the boat deck,” he said to me, and I was about to say that I was going to follow his advice, but Naomi was the first to speak as she walked in the direction of the door.

“Get out. We're busy.” She was about to close the door, but the steward came in anyway, pushing her back inside the room. He walked to the dresser and started getting the lifebelts from the top.

He smiled apologetically as he handed one of the lifebelts to her. “I'm sorry about the inconvenience, Mrs. Milton, but it's Captain's orders. Please dress warmly, it's quite cold tonight.” Then he handed the lifebelt to me and I took it, giving him a shy smile. ”Not to worry, sir, I'm sure it's just a precaution.”

“Of course. We’ll be there shortly,” I said and the man went out of the room, leaving me with a furious Naomi. “Will you keep making a scene?” I asked, putting the lifebelt on

“You’re unbelievable,” she hissed, shaking her head. “You have the dignity to show up here with that scum and pretend everything’s alright?”

Anger was boiling inside me; she had no right to speak about Dean like that. I didn’t have the chance to say anything, however, as the door opened and my mother walked out, Hannah by her side.

She took in the scene in front of her and decided to completely ignore it, as always. “Castiel, what are you holding?”

I glanced at the two lifebelts that I had left. Handing them to Hannah and Amara, I said, “A steward came here and told us to put on lifebelts after getting dressed in warm clothes. Captain expects us all on the boat deck.”

“What’s all the fuss about? I don’t understand-”

“I saw an iceberg and the ship brushed against it. I was trying to tell you that earlier, that might be the cause of all what’s happening,” I cut her off and she nodded as she saw the serious expression on my face.

Naomi snorted. “Bullshit. This thing is unsinkable.”

“I honest to God hope you’re right, Naomi.”

“No need for such language, Naomi,” Amara scolded, putting on the lifebelt. “We should go see what’s happening.”

I nodded, turning on my heel, and headed toward my room. I put on my winter coat, that was the warmest article of clothing I possessed, and got back, seeing Naomi had dressed as well.

If only I could find a huge crowd somewhere, then I’d be able to disappear and find Dean.

We got out of the suite and walked toward the foyer, seeing people walking around us confused and unsure as to what was happening. When we got there, I spotted Mr. Shurley immediately and I walked over to him as soon as I saw the heartbroken expression on his face.

“I saw the iceberg, Mr. Shurley,” I said simply and he turned his attention to me. “And I see it in your eyes. Please tell me the truth.”

Without any preamble, he blurted out. “The ship will sink.”

I didn’t expect that.

I vaguely put it in the back of my mind as a possibility, but that didn’t mean it was my top hit. I had no idea what to say, I was shocked. “You're certain?”

“Yes,” he confirmed, such sadness and pain painted across his features. “In an hour or so all of this will be at the bottom of the Atlantic.”

I couldn’t hold back a gasp. Only an hour? It was nearly nothing, would be over before we knew it.

“My God,” Naomi cried and only then I realized she was standing right behind me.

“Please tell only who you must, I don't want to be responsible for panic. And get to a boat quickly. Don't wait. You remember what I told you about the boats?” Chuck asked, and I nodded.

I swallowed the lump in my throat, forcing my voice to cooperate, “Yes, I understand. Thank you.”

I could no longer wait, who knew how much time we exactly had.

I had to find Dean, and I had to do it immediately.


	22. Chapter 22

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tags/Warnings: minor violence, Dean's POV

After we crossed the corridor, I stopped struggling against their hold. The handcuffs were too tight, the cold metal biting into my skin, and I knew that it wouldn’t take long for my skin to bleed.

Did Castiel believe them? Why didn’t he do anything?

The look in his eyes had told me something completely different than his actions. Maybe I was being naive, but I could feel that he had some kind of a plan. I was certain he wouldn’t leave me, but I didn’t know what to think.

The Masters at Arms lead me through the whole ship, almost, and people were staring at me like I was some kind of a criminal. Some of them even flinched away as we were passing them and it hurt me more than I thought it would.

It seemed like I was going to be kept at the lowest deck possible, considering we had to go down many stairs and take many elevator rides.  
  
Eventually, we stopped in front of some room and they opened the door, telling me to go in. I obeyed, and they dragged me to the other end of the room, instructing me to sit on the table. They uncuffed one of my hands and told me to grab the waterpipe, then cuffed the other one.

They chained me to the waterpipe and I was forced to sit in an uncomfortable position, but I could handle it, as long as I had the hope that Cas would come back for me. They left me alone after that, and, since I had no idea what to do with myself, I kept observing the water through the small porthole.

It was obvious after a bit of time that the water was rising rapidly and it could only mean one thing: Titanic was going to sink.

I wasn’t the type of a fella who would be scared often, but that view made the blood in my veins turn cold. I was terrified, and I had no idea how much time the ship had left, how much I had left.

Suddenly, the door to the room opened, and when I turned my head to see who it was I saw Bartholomew, a wicked smirk on his face.

“You son of a bitch,” I gritted out through clenched teeth, and he chuckled dryly.

He sat on the chair next to a desk and leaned back, crossing his legs. “No need for such language, Mr. Winchester. It won’t get you anywhere.”

I snorted. “I can’t see myself going anywhere, so it seems like I might as well make use of the most fitting words I can think of.”

He seemed to ignore completely what I was saying and it made me even more angry, but I refused to show my frustration to him. Bartholomew reached into his pocket and pulled out a bullet, setting it on the table. I watched it roll back to him and fall into his outstretched palm.

He repeated that a few times, every time catching the bullet just before it could fall to the floor.

Eventually, he hid it back in his pocket and got up from the chair. Bartholomew began walking in my direction, and I wondered why.

Was he going to shoot me? Was it the reason he was playing with that bullet?

“You know, I believe this ship may sink,” he announced, emphasizing the word “sink” with a hiss.

I rolled my eyes at that. “Not to spoil the fun, but I figured it out on my own already.”

“I thought so. You’re not a stupid man, but you’re quite ignorant if you think you can get out of this alive. Naomi made sure of that,” Bartholomew explained, but I already knew they would do their best to keep me here and let me die while being chained to a damn pipe.

There was no other hope for me than Castiel.

I didn’t say a word, so he continued. “I’ve been asked to give you a small token of our appreciation…” he cut off before I had the chance to ask what he had meant, and he punched me straight in my stomach, knocking the breath out of me.

To say that it hurt like a bitch was an understatement, but I didn’t want him to see how badly it hurt, so I gritted my teeth.

“You fucking…” I hissed and Bartholomew chuckled, turning around and heading toward the door.

“Compliments of Mrs. Naomi Milton,” he added, then flipped the handcuff key in the air, catching it with ease. He put it in his pocket afterward and exited the room, closing the door behind him.

Only then did I let myself groan in pain, my mind racing with all kinds of thoughts.

Maybe he was right? Maybe I was already dead? 


	23. Chapter 23

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tags/Warnings: homophobia, Cas' POV

People were crowding in the hallway and I had trouble pushing through them. I thought it was ridiculous that a lot of them had their suitcases; there would be no fitting them on the lifeboats, were they stupid?

Naomi and mother were following me; they probably thought I was heading toward the boat deck with them, but no such thing. My plan was to show them the way out, then turn around and go back looking for Dean.

I had to find him, and there wasn’t a lot of people who would tell me where he was being held.

“Will the lifeboats be seated according to class? I hope they're not too crowded-” Mother began, and I turned around abruptly, not believing the words I had just heard.

I had had enough.

“Oh, Mother shut up!” I exclaimed, making Amara stop in her tracks, her mouth agape. “Don't you understand? The water is freezing and there aren't enough boats, not enough by a half. Half the people on this ship are going to die.” I tried to keep my voice low, I didn’t want to raise panic after all, but I made sure both of them heard me.

Naomi only snorted. “Not the better half.”

And that was it; I couldn’t keep it bottled anymore.

“You know what? I’m done pretending that everything is alright. I’m done agreeing with everything you say. You’re not better than other people, I’d even say you’re worse.” I shook my head in disbelief. “How dare you assume that wealth makes you superior to other people? You couldn’t be more wrong.”

“Castiel-” Amara tried to cut me off, but I didn’t let her.

“Don’t. Just don’t.” I stepped away from them, feeling my back hit the wall. “You don’t care about me at all, I’m just a tool for both of you. And I’m not going to be a tool anymore, it’s over.”

My mother was shocked to say at least, but all I could see on Naomi was rage. She couldn’t believe I was standing up for myself and for others.

I caught my mother’s gaze. “Goodbye mother. You should get to the boat.” As I turned to Naomi, I shook my head. Her jaw was clenched, and I could tell she was restraining herself from letting the anger take over. “And to you, Naomi. You never loved me and you chose to hurt the person who showed me what love is. I sincerely hope you rot in hell for what you did.”

“Showed you what love is? You can’t be talking about him, this is disgusting!” she roared, stepping closer to me.

When I looked at Amara I knew she finally connected the dots. She moved away a bit, like she saw the devil himself in me, but I couldn’t care less.

She didn’t understand anything.

“You know what’s disgusting? The fact that you used me and abused my body in ways I can’t begin to name. Love is never disgusting, no matter what, but you don’t know what love is. You know only possession and obedience and you won’t get it anymore from me.” I turned on my heel, furious, and started heading toward the foyer, hoping I would find there someone who would tell me where Dean was being held.

I felt someone’s hand on my shoulder and flinched as I turned my head to the side and saw Naomi. She turned me around with what little strength she had and pinned me to the wall, not caring that people around were watching.

“Where are you going? To him? To be a whore of this filth?” she kept shouting, but I simply pushed her away gently, making her let go of me.

“I'd rather be his whore than your husband,” I spat, turning around yet again and starting to run toward the foyer. She didn’t follow me then, fortunately, and I was finally free.


	24. Chapter 24

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tags/Warnings: Dean's POV

The pain was still there, but it was slowly dwindling, so I was certain I hadn’t been hurt badly in any way.

After some more waiting, I started pulling on the pipe with all the strength I had, hoping I would be able to destroy it somehow and free myself. However, no matter how hard I pulled, it wasn’t helping at all, and I stopped, seeing that there was no use in doing that. It would be no use to cut my wrist on the cuff.

My hope was still with Cas. He was the only person, except for Benny, who would care to get me out before I would die. But Benny had no idea where I was and I could only rely on Cas.

I heard a few creaks and sounds similar to the ones a tin would be making if I were to step on it and crush it, but those were much louder. In fact, Titanic could be compared to a tin: it was all metal and we were trapped on it, having nowhere to go.

We were screwed.

My attention turned to the door as I heard a gurgling sound and then water started pouring under the door, covering the floor at a rapid pace. I jumped on the desk, trying to stay dry for as long as possible.

I tried working my hand out of the handcuffs, but even though my hand looked like someone tried to rip it off my skin after a few tries, it wasn’t working either.

Cas had to hurry or I would be dead real quick.


	25. Chapter 25

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tags/Warnings: Cas' POV

I was moving in the other direction to where everyone was heading, and there were fewer and fewer people in the corridors, which helped me pick up my pace and move faster. I knew I didn’t have much time and I hoped someone would help me find Dean. I wasn’t sure if I would be able to find him on my own, but I was definitely going to do my best, or die trying.

I couldn’t imagine my life without him, so it was either living with him or not living at all.

I crossed another corridor, trying to find anyone who would have an idea of where Dean could be held, desperately hoping that someone would be enough of a human to show some mercy and help.

Seemed that the luck was on my side as I saw Mr. Shurley opening the doors to the suites. It looked like he was checking if everyone was already out, though I was surprised that he wasn’t heading toward the boat deck yet.

Why wasn’t he trying to save himself? It didn’t make any sense.

I ran right to him and put my hand on his shoulder, making him turn around.

“Mr. Shurley, thank God! Where would the Master at Arms take someone under arrest?” I blurted out, my chest heaving. My lungs were already burning from all the running, but it was far from over, and I had to pull myself together.

He was shocked to see me, like he’d seen a ghost. “What? You have to get to a boat right away!”

I shook my head. “No such thing. I need to find Dean first! I'll do this with or without your help, sir. But without it’s going to take much longer.”

He realized that I wasn’t giving up without any help and he sighed in resignation. “Take the elevator to the very bottom, go left, down the crewman's passage, then make a right.”

I nodded, trying to memorize the route I would have to take. “Bottom, left, right. I have it, thank you sir.” I smiled, then added. “But won't you even make a try for it, Mr. Shurley?

He shot me a sad smile, a tear rolling down his cheek, and said, “I'm sorry that I didn't build you a stronger ship, Castiel.”

Without a second thought I pulled him in for a hug; it was clear he was blaming himself for what was happening, even if it wasn’t entirely his fault.

“It’s alright,” I said after pulling away and he wiped the tears away from his face.

“Good luck. But hurry, Castiel.”

“Good luck to you too, Mr. Shurley. And I will,” I promised and turned around, heading toward the elevators.

I hoped someone would be there who would take me down, because I wasn’t sure if I would be able to operate the elevator on my own. Though, how difficult could that be? Fortunately, as I crossed the corridor and stopped in front of the elevators, an Operator was in one of them, closing it up.

When he saw me, he began. “Sorry, sir, the lifts are closed-”

Before he had the chance to say more than that, I grabbed him and shoved him back inside the elevator. He looked at me like I was crazy and, well, I couldn’t say I wasn’t.

“I'm done with being polite, you hear me? I may never be polite the rest of my life, who knows if we’re even going to survive. Now take me down,” I demanded and he nodded nervously, starting to close the gate, his hands shaking.

He started the elevator and we were slowly going down, the sound of water whooshing getting closer and closer. Before we got all the way down the elevator slowed a bit, and I thought that maybe something was wrong and it wouldn’t be able to take us there.

The reason as to why it stopped came clear a second later when ice cold water rushed into the elevator, making me shriek as it hit my legs.

God, Dean hadn’t been kidding that day when he had saved me, it really felt like someone was stabbing my skin with small knives, all over at once. Fortunately, it didn’t hurt yet, just stung.

The Operator wanted to get us back up, but before he proceeded to start the elevator again, I opened the gate and went out onto the corridor, trying not scream at the coldness. I hiked up my coat, because it was soaking up water pretty quick and making it harder for me to move.

When I turned around, the elevator was already going up and I knew we would have to find some other way up later.

“Left, crew passage.” I muttered, taking the left, smiling when I saw the labels on the corridor. I was exactly where I was supposed to be, though I felt uneasy.

The lights started flickering and, for a moment, it was so dark that I couldn’t see anything. And there was no one there, only me, and the water. I was terrified, but there was nothing I wouldn’t do for Dean.

My legs were already getting numb from the water and the further I went the more and more difficult it was to walk fast, but at least they didn’t hurt as much as they did before. I didn’t know if I should be happy about that or maybe worried, because I was certain it was the first step to having hypothermia, and that didn’t seem like a good thing at all.

“Right, right…” I mumbled under my breath, turning into a cross-corridor. It seemed endless, almost, rows of doors on each side.

How was I supposed to find him quick?

But, maybe, I wouldn’t need to check every single one?

“Dean? Dean?” I began shouting, hoping that the echo would carry my voice to wherever Dean was.


	26. Chapter 26

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tags/Warnings: Dean's POV

I kept pulling on the pipe, terrified with how fast the water was rising, but nothing was working. My throat was already sore from how much I was screaming for help, but no one came.

I had to take a break or my hands would fall off, so I leaned against the wall, still trying to come up with a way to get away from my prison.

I thought I was already screwed, but I heard something. At first I thought I was hallucinating; there was no way Cas would be screaming my name somewhere around here, but when I heard it again, I was sure it was him.

“Cas! In here!” I shouted as loud as I could and, after a moment, the door opened, revealing Cas, his clothes soaked from the water.

He crossed the room as fast as it was possible and put his arms around me, pulling me in for a kiss. It said everything I wanted to say to him; how much I missed him, how scared I was that I would die alone, and how happy I was that he came back for me.

Castiel pulled away after a moment and smiled, our foreheads still touching. “I found you.”

“You did,” I agreed, grinning. “Bartholomew put it in my pocket,” I added, and before I had the chance to say anything else, Cas nodded.

“I know, I know,” he said and I let out a sigh of relief.

I raised my hands up, gesturing to the handcuffs. “See if you can find a key for these. Try those drawers. It's a little brass one.”

“Alright.” He nodded eagerly and turned around, starting to rummage in the drawers, throwing everything that wasn’t even remotely similar to a key on the floor.

I cleared my throat and Cas turned around, his eyebrows raised. “So... How did you find out I didn't do it?” I simply had to know, the curiosity getting the better of me.

“I didn’t.” He shot me a smile. “I knew the moment they accused you of that, but I kept quiet. I knew they wouldn’t listen to what I had to say and, if I were to intervene, there would be no chance of either of us getting out of this alive. I just had to wait for the right moment to get back to you.”

I was speechless, I didn’t know that Cas already trusted me that much. I just nodded, having no idea how to respond, and looked out of the porthole. Something hit the water and when the water calmed a bit, I realized it was a lifeboat.

Damn, we were running out of time.

“There’s no key in here,” Cas said eventually, looking around the room, his voice laced with panic. The water was rising faster and faster, it was already reaching Cas’ thighs.

“You have to go for help.” We had no other choice. There was no way I was getting out of the cuffs without help.

Cas nodded without hesitation and came closer to me, pulling me in for a short kiss. “I'll be right back,” He promised as he pulled away and I smiled, knowing he was telling the truth.

At least, as long as the water wasn’t too high for him to get back.

“I'll wait here,” I said and Castiel went out of the room, turning around to look at me right before he disappeared from my sight.

God, I hoped that wouldn’t be the last time I would see him.


	27. Chapter 27

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tags/Warnings: minor violence, Cas' POV

I shivered as I went out to the corridor, the icy cold water surrounding me everywhere. My legs were tingling from the cold, my completely wet pants clinging to my body like a second skin. I walked forward and took the first stairs up, clumsily moving on the steps.

The water was making the stairs slippery and I had to hold the handrail tightly in order not to fall down. When I ended up at the upper floor I realized my coat soaked up too much water for me to keep wearing it. It was so heavy I could barely move forward and I shimmied out of this thing, leaving it on the floor, along with the lifebelt.

It probably wasn’t a good idea to get rid of something warm to wear, but this coat wasn’t giving me much warmth anyway, rather the opposite. We’d have to find something dry to wear once we would go back up the deck. And the lifebelt was constricting my movements, making it difficult to keep going.

When I looked around, I realized that I was absolutely alone yet again. The sound of my steps echoing seemed as loud as gunshots in such a deserted space. The corridor seemed like the beginning of a long labyrinth and I nearly jumped when I heard a long groan of metal, echoing along the hall.

I began running down the corridor, looking around and hoping I would find someone who would be willing to help.

“Hello? Somebody?” I kept shouting, but I could hear nothing other than my own voice echoing in the corridor. I prayed to no one in particular that I would be able to find help.

I turned the corner and run along the corridor still. Suddenly, a young man appeared, running right next to me.

“Help me! We need help!” I begged him, but he didn’t even stop to look at me, he must’ve been in some sort of a daze. It was all like a bad dream.

The lights flickered in and out, leaving me in the complete darkness and I leaned against the wall, trying not to lose my footing. It was terrifying, even more so than before, because the ship was making all kinds of sounds that could easily be named as a cacophony of destruction. When they came back on I realized I had been hyperventilating, my chest heaving with every breath I forced my lungs to take.

When I resumed walking, a steward run around the nearest corner and nearly knocked me off my feet, his arms full of lifebelts.

Thank God that someone was still around.

Before I had the chance to say anything, he grabbed me forcefully by the arm, pulling me in the opposite direction than in which we had to go in order to get back to Dean.

“Come on, then. Let’s get you topside sir, that’s right,” he kept muttering under his breath and I began squirming in his hold, trying to free myself.

I shook my head no, desperately planting my feet firmly on the floor, but I couldn’t stay in place, I was simply sliding because of the wet shoes I had on. “Wait, wait! I need your help, there’s-”

He cut me off, ignoring absolutely what I had to say, “No need for panic, sir. Come along!”

“No, let me go! You're going the wrong way!” I tried to explain, but he wasn’t listening and he didn’t want to let me go either, so I had to break free.

I shouted in his ear and, when he turned, I aimed at his face with my fist and hit him square in the nose, hissing as I felt my hand sting. He was shocked and he let go of me, staggering back.

"To hell with you!” he screamed, shaking his head in disapproval.

"See you there, buster!” I snarked and he ran off, holding his bleeding nose.

When I turned around I saw a glass case with a fire axe in it; it was my only option, it seemed. Looking around, I noticed a discarded suitcase lying on the floor and I picked it up, aiming at the glass.

I managed to break the case without any trouble and I seized the axe in my hands, running back the way I came, as fast as it was possible. I was out of breath by the time I reached the staircase, but I couldn’t slow down, even if my body was begging me to.

When I looked down, I gasped in surprise when I sąw that the water had flooded the bottom five steps. I stepped to the middle of the staircase and had to crouch down to look along the corridor to the room where Dean was trapped.

The water was so high I had no idea if I would be able to move in it at all, but I plunged into it without hesitation, hissing as I felt the freezing water envelop my body yet again. I gritted my teeth together, because it literally hurt, the water was that cold. It felt like someone was tightly squeezing my chest when it reached my heart.

I started powering forward, holding the axe above my head. I kept locking the axe onto the pipes that were right under the ceiling in order not to let the water take me any further than I would like to.

I was going slow, but forward, and that’s what mattered most.

I was almost there.


	28. Chapter 28

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tags/Warnings: minor violence, Dean's POV

The water kept rising so I climbed on the bench, trying to stay warm for as long as possible. It wouldn’t do me any good to get soaked and cold.   
  
I was worried about Cas; it had been quite a bit of time since he had gone looking for help and he still hadn’t come back. My worries faded away when Cas waded in, holding an axe above his head.   
  
"Will this work?” he asked, and I noticed he was shivering, his skin pale, his lips nearly blue. He didn’t have his coat anymore and his shirt was soaked, clinging to his body like a second skin. Damn, I didn’t want to know how cold the water was if he looked liked that.   
  
I shot him a smile, hoping I didn’t look as nervous as I felt. "We'll find out.”   
  
Then, I positioned the chain connecting the two cuffs, stretching it across the steel pipe. The chain was fairly short and I didn’t want to think what would happen if Castiel were to miss.   
  
"Try a couple of practice swings,” I said to Cas and he hefted the axe, hammering it into a wooden cabinet, then ripped the axe out of the wood. "Now try to hit the same mark again,” I suggested and Cas complied, but the blade sank in the wood at least a few inches from the mark.   
  
Luck needed to be on our side, or I was utterly screwed.   
  
"Okay, that's enough practice,” I announced, clearing my throat. Cas came closer and slowly raised the axe. I winced as he braced himself, pure terror in his eyes. He didn’t believe he could do it. "You can do it, Cas. Hit it as hard as you can, I trust you,” I assured him and closed my eyes, waiting for the hit.   
  
The metal clung loudly and my wrists dropped to the both sides of the pipe, the ends of the chain dangling at the end of each cuff. He’d done it!   
  
I grinned as I opened my eyes. Cas moved closer to me, and I brought my arms up to wrap around his waist.    
  
"I did it, I can’t believe it,” Cas whispered, nuzzling into my neck. I held him for a moment, then pulled away, smiling.   
  
"I knew you would be able to do it.” I slid off the bench and into the water, the coldness hitting me from all the sides.   
  
I couldn’t breathe for a moment and Castiel looked at me with concern, but I moved forward, forcing air into my lungs with a deep breath. "Shit! Excuse my French, but that is cold!” I shivered in the cold, taking Cas’ hand in mine, entwining our fingers together. I grabbed the axe with my other hand; it might come in handy after all. "Come on, let's go.”   
  
We got out into the hall together and Cas began leading me toward the stairs going up, but I stopped him as I took a look at the stairwell. There was only about a foot of the stairwell opening visible and I knew we wouldn’t be able to go that way.   
  
"Too deep. We’ve got to find another way out,” I said and pulled Cas in the opposite direction, leading him toward the other end of the hallway.   
  
We went up as we saw another staircase; we were lucky that the water seemed to be reaching only the other end of the ship, the other part was alright.   
  
The hallway was deserted, but we could hear noise from somewhere; there must’ve been people on the other side of the wall. Once we found the wooden door I gestured for Cas to stay back and I swung the axe at it, splintering the door with the blade without trouble. Then, I kicked the rest of the wood, getting inside another hallway, this time crowded with people. I dropped the axe to the floor, hoping it wouldn’t be needed anymore.   
  
Castiel followed suit, his hand holding mine, and we looked around, trying to determine in which direction we should be going.   
  
"Hey you! You'll have to pay for that! That's White Star Line property-” someone behind us shouted and we turned our heads in sync, eyeing the furious steward.   
  
"Shut up!” we shouted together and he looked at us dumbfounded. I guess he hadn’t expected us to do that.   
  
We got back to walking, joining the crowd heading to the upper deck. Castiel’s hand was ice cold and I tried to warm him up a bit, pulling him closer and rubbing his back. He smiled at me, leaning against my body, and we kept going, trying to make our way in between dozens of people.   
  
Someone tapped me on the shoulder and when I turned around, I saw a man offering me a flask.   
  
"Go ahead, this will take the chill off,” the man encouraged and I nodded, taking a generous swig. It burned just right in my throat, and I hoped it would make me a bit warmer. Then, I handed the flask to Cas and he tilted the flask too, drinking quite a bit of the whiskey.   
  
"Thank you,” Cas said as he handed the flask back to the man and he only smiled at us, hiding it back in his pocket.   
  
As we were going, I was trying every door and iron gate we passed, but they were all locked, almost as if someone didn’t want us to get out.   
  
When we crossed the corridor I saw a big crowd in front of a closed gate. As I took a closer look at the people I spotted Benny nearby and ran right to him. Thank God he was alright.   
  
"Benny, brother!” I shouted and he turned around, pushing through the crowd with a smile on his face.   
  
He pulled me in for a hug when he got to us, only letting go when I faked not being able to breathe. Castiel went for a hug with him afterward and I couldn’t be happier to see that the two most important people in my life were right by my side.   
  
After he and Cas pulled away, he said, "The boats are all going, chief.”   
  
I sighed. "I know. We have to get up there or we're going to be choking on the saltwater soon. Where's Sam?” Even though I had only known that fella for a few days I’d already taken a liking to him. He was a good guy, I hoped he was alright too.   
  
Benny pointed over the heads of the solidly packed crowd to the stairwell and I followed his finger, spotting Sam without any trouble. He was so tall he was towering over most of the people waiting for the passage. He had his hands on the bars of the steel gate that was blocking the head of the stairwell.   
  
The crew opened the gate a foot or so and a few women were squeezing through, dragging children along with them.   
  
"Women only. No men. No men!” one of the stewards shouted, guarding the gate with his body.   
  
A few men tried to rush through, though. They were probably terrified, but before they had the chance to get out, the stewards pushed them back, making the crowd stumble backwards. They landed a few punches to the poor fellas too and I just shook my head; it was a complete mess and they didn’t deserve to treat anyone like that.   
  
"Get back! Get back you lot!” another steward shouted, and they struggled to get the gate closed again, and when they did, the crowd lost it, pounding against the gates with everything they had.   
  
I heard Sam shout, "Please, there are children down here! Let us up, so we can have a chance!”   
  
But nothing happened for a long while and I saw Sam pushing his way through the crowd, then going down the stairs. He got right back to us and greeted both me and Cas, a faint smile on his face.   
  
He frowned when he saw the handcuffs around my wrists. "And what’s that for?”   
  
Cas was the one to explain, "My fiancée framed him, making it look like he stole an expensive necklace, and he got arrested for nothing.”   
  
"You know that’s not true, I got arrested for stealing you from her,” I added and he rolled his eyes, but both Sam and Benny let out a laugh.   
  
"Seems like it’s a long story so let’s save it for some other day,” Sam suggested and I nodded, Cas’ fingers entwining back with mine.    
  
Benny gestured to the gate, shaking his head. "It's hopeless that way, brother. They won’t let us out.”   
  
I sighed. "I know. Well, it seems like we’ve got to find some other way up.”   
  
We turned from the gate and went toward the other end of the corridor, looking for another way out. We finally came upon a narrow stairwell, taking two stairs at once as we hoped the situation in that place would be a bit different. Before we reached the gate, we saw a small group pressed up against it. The crewmen were shouting at a steward who was trying to calm down people that were trying to get through.   
  
"Go to the main stairwell, with everyone else. It'll all get sorted out there,” he kept repeating and I couldn’t take it anymore.    
  
Who did they think we were? We deserved to have a chance as much, if not more, than all those stuck up first class people. It wasn’t fair to treat us cattle.   
  
"Son of a bitch!” I shouted, my gaze landing on a bench bolted in the floor.   
  
That could work out.   
  
I grabbed one end of the bench and started pulling on it, hoping it would detach from the floor. Benny and Sam joined me in my efforts and it didn’t take long before we broke it free.   
  
I saw Cas clearing a path up the stairs between the waiting people, giving us room to move with the bench so we were standing straight in the direction of the gate.   
  
I glanced at Benny, fixing my grip on the wood, and he gave me a single nod. That was all I needed. We ran up the stairs with the bench and rammed it into the gate with all the strength we had, making it dangle from its hinges. We backed away slightly and repeated the motion, making the gate fall outward. It missed the steward by an inch or two.   
  
We stepped back and started helping the women and children go along the bench, so they wouldn’t fall and injure themselves. Cas joined in too, leading people our way and helping them as well.   
  
When everyone was on the other side we hopped on the bench and went through the gate as well, and the steward was staring at us, a grimace on his face,   
  
Before I had the chance to say anything, Castiel stepped up to him and began. "If you have any intention of keeping your pathetic job with the White Star Line, I suggest you escort these good people to the boat deck. Now.”   
  
His tone was truly imperious and the steward nodded, motioning for the rest of people to follow his lead.

Damn, it was nice to see Cas take charge like that.   



	29. Chapter 29

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tags/Warnings: Cas' POV

Somehow, we ended up on the same part of the ship as mine and Naomi’s suite and I dragged Dean, Benny and Sam to the suite, hoping we would find some warm clothes there, because I was still freezing.

"What are we doing here, cher?” Benny asked, looking around the suite, and I felt a bit awkward, knowing that I probably seemed quite a bit stuck up, considering the expensive furniture and everything else.

"Getting something warm to wear,” I said simply and he smiled, nodding.

Once I opened the door and went to my old room, I saw that everything was just like they left it and I grabbed a few coats of mine and gave them to the men, hoping they would fit.

The one I gave Sam was a bit too short on him, the one I gave Benny was a bit too small, but Dean and mine’s fitted perfectly. I sighed as I felt the fluffy material envelop my cold body.

Sam looked at himself in the mirror and chuckled, his hands peeking out from too short sleeves. "I think this is the most expensive thing I’ve ever had on.”

Dean laughed at that and moved to the door, opening it onto the corridor.

"Let’s go, fellas,” he said and we followed suit; it was an easy way up from there.

I had no trouble leading them all through the endless corridors, turns and twists, and we burst onto the boat deck, trying to look around in order to find boats, but there were none on this side of the ship.

"Let’s check the other side, Cas. Come on!” Dean ordered, grabbing me by the hand, and we sprinted to the other side of the ship as fast as we could, Benny and Sam right behind us.

Surprisingly, when we passed the other entry to the first class, the band was set on the deck, playing a beautiful song. It seemed like they didn’t care about what was happening at all and I had to pinch myself to make sure I wasn’t hallucinating.

"Music to drown by. Now I know I'm in the first class, cher,” Benny joked and, even though the situation wasn’t funny, we all laughed.

Suddenly, the door nearby burst open, water pouring out onto the deck in record time. It pushed us to one side while Sam and Benny were pushed to the other side, right onto the rails. They gripped them tightly, pulling themselves away from the part of the ship that was being covered in water.

“Dean, you should both go!” Benny ordered as they were moving toward the stern.

"No, I can’t leave you! You’re my brother!” Dean screamed, trying to make a run for Benny, but I yanked him back, even though my heart was breaking.

"You can’t go there, the water will take you and it won’t do anyone any good,” I begged and he nodded, my gaze locking with Sam’s.

He gave me a single nod and I gave him one too, gritting my teeth together in an attempt to prevent myself from crying. I wasn’t sure if we would see them ever again, there was no telling if they would be able to get back to us.

“Come on, Dean. I’ll be alright with Sammy here, just go!” Benny shouted and I caught his gaze as well, giving him a sad smile.

Sam let go of the rails with one hand and gripped the flagpole, steadily moving forward. “Don’t make me go there and kick your ass, Dean. See you soon, fellas. I promise!”

I turned my head to look at Dean and saw him wiping a lone tear away. He looked at me then, and nodded. “Alright! See you soon, brothers!” he let out, his voice breaking a bit, and we resumed running toward the stern, trying to make our way through the immense crowd.

Even if we wanted to help them, there was no way we could do that. We had to keep going.

 


	30. Chapter 30

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tags/Warnings: minor character's deaths, Dean's POV

After a moment of silence, I blinked away the tears that threatened to spill and cleared my throat, making Cas' attention turn to me.

“Okay, we’ll keep moving to the stern. We have to stay on the ship as long as possible,” I said and he nodded, squeezing my hand even tighter as we kept pushing through the panicked crowd, our steps getting slower and slower, considering that the ship was tilting faster and faster.

We got a grip on the rails and kept moving, the steady metal helping us not to slide down the deck, as opposite to many of the folks that didn’t get a grip on something just in time.

I had to avert my gaze as I saw women and children falling into the water and bumping into metal parts of the ship; lives undoubtedly being snatched away.

When we reached the end of the first class deck, we climbed over to the gate that was separating it from the second and third class deck. Using all the strength I had, I helped Cas get on the other side, letting go of his hand as soon as he was able to grip the other side of the rails. I followed suit, jumping right beside him, and we took off running still, having to wait and slow down as we reached the only stairs leading to the lower deck.

It would take ages to get through those and we probably didn’t have that much time, so we turned back and climbed on the rails again, jumping down and rolling onto the wooden deck. When I regained my footing, I saw the man that offered us the flask earlier helping Cas to his feet and I gave him a nod as he caught my gaze, to thank him in a way.

We pushed through the people together, holding hands and trying to get a grip on anything that seemed solid.

People were already jumping from the rails and I wasn’t certain if they wanted to save themselves or just get this over with. There was no way they would survive such a fall, so the answer seemed to be obvious. God, I couldn’t believe this was happening, it seemed like a vivid nightmare.

The ship kept creaking loudly and I knew it was only a matter of time before something awful would happen, so I tried to pick up my pace, pulling Castiel with me. The man ahead of us was walking so slowly that a snail wouldn’t have trouble getting ahead of him.

“Yeah, though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death-”

I had enough and cut him off, rolling my eyes. “You wanna walk a little faster through that valley, fella?”

When he didn’t react, we went the other way; we couldn’t let him slow us down, the ship was tiling dangerously already.

We had to climb the rails again, but it would be the last time already before we would reach the stern. We could do this.

It was getting more and more difficult with every passing second. The pace at which the ship was tilting was crazy, but we kept pushing through, clinging together and to every single thing that allowed us to keep going.

Cas was out of breath, nearly bending in half, but we couldn’t stop. We would be dead if we stopped, so I kept dragging him along, knowing I couldn’t let him die.

“Come on, Cas. We can't expect God to do all the work for us,” I encouraged, trying to sound as positive as it was possible, given the circumstances.

“I know, Dean. I know,” he answered, squeezing my hand tightly, then gripped the flagpole with all his strength.

A man ahead of us lost his footing and started sliding down the deck, so I braced myself on another flagpole and grasped his hand firmly, pulling him back to his feet. Then, I took Cas’ hand in mine and we started moving again, finally making it to the stern, gripping the rails exactly on the spot from when I pulled him back to the ship two days ago.

It seemed like it had happened a lifetime ago.

People around us were sobbing and wailing, most of them were listening to a priest who was trying to comfort them.

“...and I saw new heavens and a new earth. The former heavens and the former earth had passed away and the sea was no longer,” he said, his strong voice being carried across the ship.

The lights flickered again, and I thought they were going to go out, but they didn’t, at least not yet. Cas' arm sneaked around my waist and I pulled him closer, as close as it was possible. The stern was still rising and as I glanced up at the sky; it was safe to say I had never seen stars so beautiful and vibrant.

If we were going to survive, I’d have to draw that.

“I also saw a new Jerusalem, the holy city coming down out of heaven from God, beautiful as a bride prepared to meet her husband. I heard a loud voice from the throne ring out this is God's dwelling among men. He shall dwell with them and they shall be his people and He shall be their God who is alway with them,” the priest continued, clutching the rails with one hand and blessing people with the other. They were surrounding him from everywhere, listening to the every word he had to say.

I saw Cas turn his head a bit and I followed suit, my gaze landing on a woman holding a little boy in her arms. He was wailing, but there was no panic on her face at all.

“Shhh. Don't cry. It'll be over soon, darling. It'll all be over soon,” she kept repeating, planting kisses on the boy’s forehead, and my eyes welled up with tears.

In what world was it fair for women and children to die like that?

“He shall wipe every tear from their eyes. And there shall be no more death or mourning, crying out or pain, for the former world has passed away,” the priest added, his voice breaking a little with emotion.

Suddenly, the ship seemed to right itself, and some people thought that it would be alright, but I knew better. The weight of the water on the other side of the ship was too big for the ship to last.

Cas looked at me, a silent question in his eyes, and I shook my head no, a terrifying crack making the bile in my throat rise. From where we were it was easy to see the ship splitting in half, and the stern began rising rapidly again, the movement making people shout and shriek.

People began falling, sliding down the deck and into the water; the sight was horrifying. They were bumping into all sorts of things on their way down and I was sure some of them didn’t survive the journey alone.

They were all panicked, grabbing into other people as they were trying to stay on the ship, pulling the others down with them more often than not. The lights flickered out for the last time and there was nothing left around us, but the immense darkness and impassable ocean.

My hands were slowly starting to protest at the weight of me and Cas, that they had been holding for so long. We would be sucked with the ship into the dark depths of the water if we remained as we were.

“We have to move!” I let go of Cas after making sure his grip on the rails was steady and climbed over the stern rail, turning to face Cas.

“Dean, I can’t,” he choked out and there was pure fear in his eyes, but I grabbed his hand strongly, shaking my head.

“You can! I've got you!” I said, exactly like when I pulled Cas from over the rail and into the safety those few days ago.

He hesitated for a moment, then nodded, and I helped him climb over the rail, noticing with relief that he was holding onto the cold metal with a lot of force. He managed to get right next to me in the same moment that the railing went horizontal and the deck vertical.

We got where we were supposed to be right on time.

The stern was up in the air and the distance from the place we were on to the ocean seemed endless. Surprisingly, the ship stayed like that still, its balance incredible. I honestly thought it was going to sink faster, but I was glad that didn’t seem to be the case.

I wrapped my arm around Castiel, pulling him closer to me. We were laid out on the railing, staring at the horror playing out right in front of our eyes.

People who didn’t climb over were hanging from the railing for a moment, their legs dangling in the air, and then they all began falling down, one by one, plummeting down the deck and into the water. Some of them bounced horribly off the flagpoles and ventilators, and I had to avert my gaze every time that happened.

I focused on Castiel, locking my gaze with his.

There was fire in those azure eyes, and I could see the fight still in him.

He opened his mouth, like he wanted to speak, then closed it abruptly, crashing his lips into mine. The kiss took my breath away, and the passion and love beneath it made my heart beat faster and faster.

My angel.

When I pulled away, he smiled sadly at me, and I gripped his hand tight, squeezing it as hard as I could. We would get through this, no matter what it would take.

As I glanced to my left side, I saw the man that shared our flask with us earlier crouching on the rails, taking a generous swig from his flask.

“Helluva night,” he declared, nodding me a greeting as he pulled the flask away from his mouth and closed it, hiding it on his person.

I nodded at him, then looked down, noticing that the stern section had started gaining water. Suddenly, the ship dropped down, nearly like an elevator, and we rushed toward the surface of the water.

“Take a deep breath and hold it right before we go into the water,” I ordered, trying to talk as fast as it was possible while still getting the point across. “The ship will suck us down. Kick for the surface and keep kicking. Don't let go of my hand. We're gonna make it Cas. Trust me.”

He glanced at the water, then at me, his hand gripping mine tightly. “I trust you, Dean. Always have and always will,” Castiel said, his voice confident and sure.

“Good.” I nodded and got back to looking at the water which was getting incredibly close with every passing second.

I took a deep breath right before I felt the ice cold water hit us, then closed my eyes and let go of the rails, my hand holding Cas', and I did the best I could to kick and swim and get to the surface.

I wasn’t going to let anyone or anything take Cas away from me.


	31. Chapter 31

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tags/Warnings: major character death, Cas' POV

The cold hit me from everywhere as the ship sucked us under the surface of the water; it seemed like someone was stabbing me with knives over and over again, the pain unbearable. I had trouble moving, but I struggled anyway, kicking and trying to get to the surface. Dean was holding my hand, constantly pulling me up, and we managed to get to the surface. The surge of air being pushed into my lungs as I took a deep breath felt amazing, but before I had the time to look around, someone clawed at me and pushed my head down, making me choke on the water.

I kept squirming, trying to get to the surface; my lungs were begging for air by the time someone pulled me up, and when I blinked a few times, I saw Dean’s face right in front of mine.

“Swim, Cas! Swim!” he ordered and I obliged, trying to get away from the mayhem.

It seemed like big rocks were chained to my limbs, because even though I tried moving fast, all my moves were sloppy and uncoordinated. I kept going, but it was incredibly difficult; I felt so numb and cold that each movement was a big struggle.

After some time, we managed to break out of the clot of people, but I felt so cold that every breath and every single thing I did was incredibly painful. I knew that I was slowing down, I was so tired already.

“Keep swimming. Keep moving. Come on, you can do it,” Dean encouraged and, even though I wanted nothing but to stop, I kept going.

People around us were screaming, crying, wailing, and it all seemed like a complete hell. They were all pleading for help, but there was no one around who would listen, or could even help. We were all alone.

“Look for something floating. Some debris, wood, anything,” Dean suggested, his voice shaking a bit, like his teeth were chattering.

I drew in a breath, forcing the words to come out of my mouth, “It's so cold.”

“I know. I know,” he admitted. Then added, “Help me here. Look around.”

I did exactly what he asked, trying to keep my mind off the unbearable cold and all the wailing around us. Hearing all the suffering was excruciating. Finally, my gaze landed on a bit of wood floating and I pointed to it, asking, “What's that?

“Let’s see,” Dean suggested and we started swimming toward the thing together, trying to get there as fast as it was possible.

As we got there I realized it was a piece of carved wooden debris, quite big, so I hoped it would be able to hold us both.

Dean pushed me up and I slithered onto it, then moved to one side, so Dean could get on it as well. He got on and moved closer to me, letting the piece balance itself in the water, so neither of us would fall down.

He sneaked an arm around my waist and held me close, his face on the level with mine. We were both panting from all the swimming and exertion, but we couldn’t be happier that we managed to make it out of the water.

It was still cold, freezing even, but it was a lot better than swimming for certain.

“You okay?” Dean asked and I nodded slowly, taking his other hand in mine.

“Considering the circumstances, yes,” I admitted and he let out a small laugh, that made the piece of debris under us shake a bit.

The sound of people calling for the lifeboats and someone blowing the whistle were being carried through the night, but I doubted that they would come for us. None of the people in first class cared about anyone else other than themselves and a miracle would have to happen for anything different than that to come true.

“The boats will come back for us, Cas. They had to row away for the suction and now they'll be coming back,” Dean said, but I knew he was only telling me that because he didn’t want me to lose hope. He didn’t sound like he believed in what he was saying.

I shook my head. “They won’t. You know those people, they don’t give a damn.” Dean opened his mouth to speak, but I didn’t let him say anything. “But it’s alright. There’s nowhere else I would like to be right now than here with you.”

“Cas, you should’ve tried to get to the boat when you could’ve, but you’re a stubborn son of a bitch.”

“Dean, I…” my voice broke from all the emotions churning inside me and I had to clear my throat. “I wouldn’t have survived if I returned to what I had with her. There was no way I would survive. You saved me and you’re saving me now too.”

I only realized I had been crying when Dean’s hand let go of mine and came up to my face to wipe away the tears. I leaned into his touch, even though his hand was ice cold.

His hand stayed under my chin as he said, “You saved me too, Cas. Winning that ticket? I thought that was the best thing that could happen to me. But it wasn’t, because you are the best thing that has happened to me. My life didn’t have any sense before you marched into it.”

I didn’t know what to say, words seemed inadequate, so I leaned forward carefully, capturing Dean’s lips in a kiss. Nothing felt better, even though we knew it was the end. That was it.

His lips were cold, but his love for me was burning bright, and it nearly hurt to even think how our life would have turned out if the Titanic hadn’t sunk. But there would be no happy ending for us, at least not in the traditional meaning of the word. But I wouldn’t trade our ending for anyone else’s.

When we pulled away, Dean took my hand in his again and moved them both into his coat’s pocket, trying to warm them up. However, my hand bumped into something cold that was in the pocket and when we pulled it out together I couldn’t believe what I was seeing.

It was the Grace Of The Angels.

Dean raised the necklace, along with my hand, and chuckled dryly, turning his head to look at me. The stars were reflecting in his apple green eyes as our gazes locked and I squeezed his hand tighter, forcing a smile onto my face.

“I know it makes no sense to ask you about that now, but I just have to know, Cas,” he started and I nodded, waiting for what he wanted to say. “If the world was a bit different, if we had a chance...” Dean cleared his throat. “Would you, in that case, do me the honor of becoming my husband?”

That was surreal.

There would be no marriage, no happiness; we both knew there was no surviving our fate. It was a death sentence, but these could be the last hours we had together.

But the answer was obvious, instinctive as breathing, as it made its way out of my mouth, “Yes.”

The smile that appeared on his face after my answer seemed brighter than the sun itself and I couldn’t help but smile too. “Cas, I…”

I cut him off. “You don’t have to say it. I know you do.”

Dean nodded and put the necklace in my pocket; finally, it didn’t feel like a reminder of all the worst that happened to me. Then, he took my hand in his and brought it to his mouth, kissing it gently.

We laid together as the sky cleared, the moon appearing, basking us with its light, our bodies close, our fingers entwined. It was slowly growing silent around us and I knew it would be only a matter of time before we would be gone too.

We didn’t bother saying anything; everything we wanted to say had already been said, and being together was the only thing we had left. We were going to relish every single second. Dean kept looking at me and I didn’t dare look away, knowing that there was nothing or no one else I would rather look at.

After some time, Dean’s eyes fluttered shut and I tried waking him up, but it didn’t seem like he was sleeping. I choked back a sob and hugged him tightly, my heart breaking. I couldn’t help but press my lips against his pale forehead, tears spilling from my eyes. I took in his face yet again, then let my eyes close too, and laid like that for some time, getting more and more sleepy with every passing second. Eventually, my mind drifted off and Dean’s smile was the last thing I saw in my mind before complete darkness enveloped me.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you're here, just know that I want to give you the biggest hug for getting through this story, 'cause I've worked really hard on it and I'm incredibly proud of it. 
> 
> And, before you yell at me for the ending, know that I cried like a baby writing the last part and I've felt all the pain you did, dear reader. I've been there and it hurt me just like you, but that's what the story called for.
> 
> I'd love if you could leave a comment and tell me what you think about the story (I'd absolutely love to hear your opinion!), but even leaving kudos would be a sign that I did a good job. So, again, thank you for reading *hugs tightly if you're comfortable with it* and I hope you enjoyed the story :)


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